•sga-^^s^sffiK1 

,»rs  if  erased  by  wear. 


SYSTEM     _ 


2  ce 


--  Ibers  may  retain 


On  the  Indian  Trail 


OTHER  BOOKS 


BY 


EGERTON   R  YOUNG. 


Three  Boys  in  the  "Wild  North  Land.  Illus- 
trated by  J.  E.  Laughlin.  ismo,  cloth..  §1.25 

By  Canoe  and  Dog  Train.  Among  the  Cree 
and  Salteaux  Indians.  Illustrated.  I2mo, 
cloth 1.25 

Stories  from  the  Indian  Wigwams  and  Northern 
Camp  Fires.  Illustrated.  I2mo,  cloth,  1.25 

Oowikapun;  or,  How  the  Gospel  Reached  the 
Nelson  River  Indians.  Illustrated.  i2mo, 
cloth  . .  i  .00 


V 


On   the   Indian   Trail 


Stories  of  Missionary  Work  Among 
the    Cree    and    Saulteaux    Indians 


Egerton  R.  Young 


AUTHOR  OF 


'  Three  Boys  in  the  Wild  North  Land  ' 
"  By  Canoe  and  Dog-Train,"  etc. 


"Unto  me,  who  am  less  than  the  least 
of  all  saints,  is  this  grace  given,  that  I 
should  preach  among  the  Gentiles  the 
unsearchable  riches  of  Christ." 

PAUL. 


New  York 


Chicago 


Toronto 


Fleming  H.  Revell  Company 


M   DCCC   XCVII 


Copyright,  1897, 

BY 
FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 


First  Edition.,  October,  1897. 
Second  Eciition,  November,  1897- 


To 
MY  BELOVED  BROTHER  MISSIONARIES 

IN  ALL  LANDS, 
WHO  ENDUEE  HARDSHIP,  AND  ARE  IN  PERILS  OFT, 

THAT 

"He  may  see  of  the  travail  of  His  soul  and  be  satisfied," 

WHEN 

"The  wilderness  and  the  solitary  place  shall  be  glad  for 
them ;  and  the  desert  shall  rejoice  and  blossom  as  the  rose.' 


Contents 

CHAP.  PAGE 

PREFACE  BY  THE  AUTHOR 11 

I.   ON  THE  PRAIRIE  TRAIL 13 

II.   ON  THE  INDIAN  TRAIL 26 

III.  PRACTICAL  WORK  IN  INDIAN  HOMES     .  42 

IV.  How    THE    GOSPEL   is    CARRIED  :    BY 

CANOE  IN  SUMMER;   BY  DOG-TRAIN 

IN  WINTER 60 

V.   GOD  ON  THE  ROCK  ;  OR,  How  THE  IN- 
DIANS ARE  TAUGHT  TO  READ    THE 

BOOK 77 

VI.   THE  STORY  or  SANDY  HARTE  ....     94 
VII.   THE  NEW  YEAR'S  INDIAN  FEAST      .    .  126 
VIII.   THE   EXTRA  DOG-TRAIN  OF   SUPPLIES, 

AND  WHAT  CAME  OF  IT 139 

IX.   A  LESSON  NEVER  TO  BE  FORGOTTEN      .  146 
X.   THE  HONEST  INDIAN  ;  OR,  VENISON  FOR 

PEMMICAN 151 

XI.   THE  VINDICATION  OF  THE  SABBATH  .     .160 
XII.   GOD  MORE  POWERFUL  THAN  THE  CON- 
JURER     168 

XIII.   BETSY,  THE  INDIAN  WIFE 174 

7 


8  Contents 

CHAP.  PAGE 

XIV.   FIVE  INDIANS  AND  A  JACK-KNIFE    .     .  187 
XV.   THE  SAULTEAUX  CHIEFTAINESS;  OR,  A 

SEARCHER  AFTER  THE  TRUTH  .     .     .194 
XVI.  BIG  TOM,  THE  UNSELFISH  CHRISTIAN    .  203 


Illustrations 

PORTRAIT  OP  THE  AUTHOR  ....  Frontispiece. 
"  GOOD  MISSIONARY  BUT  HIM 

LOST  THE  TRAIL  "  .  .  .  *.  .  Facing  page  26 
SHOOTING  THE  RAPIDS  IN  A  BIRCH 

CANOE "  "  60 

THE  AURORA  BOREALIS  ..."  "  70 

EVANS'  SYLLABIC  ALPHABET  .  .  "  "  80 

GOD  ON  THE  ROCK "  «'  88 

THE  BEAR  FISHING "  "  94 

"  DOG-TRAVELLING  WAS  NOT 

WITHOUT  ITS  PLEASURES"  .  "  "  140 

THE  WINTER  CAMP "  «  152 

SINGING  FOR  JACK-KNIVES  "  "  192 


Preface 

THIS  is  not  a  continuous  narrative  of  mis- 
sionary work  as  are  some  of  the  author's  books. 
It  is  a  collection  of  distinct  chapters,  some 
of  which  are  written  expressly  for  this  volume, 
others  of  which,  having  in  whole  or  in  part 
seen  the  light  in  other  form,  are  now,  at  the  re- 
quest of  friends,  and  thanks  to  the  courtesy  of 
the  publishers,  here  gathered. 

Romantic  missionary  work  among  the  red 
Indians  will  soon  be  a  thing  of  the  past.  Civi- 
lisation is  reaching  this  people,  and  the  iron 
horse  rushes  and  shrieks  where  the  Indian 
trail  was  once  the  only  pathway.  The  pic- 
turesque garb  is  fast  disappearing,  and  store 
clothes,  often  too  soon  transformed  into  rags 
anything  but  picturesque,  have  robbed  the 
Indian  of  the  interest  that  once  clung  to  him. 

These  wanderings  on  the  fast  disappearing 
trail,  speak  of  successes  rather  than  failures ; 
not  but  that  there  were  many  of  the  latter,  as 
well  as  long  waiting  after  the  seed  time  for  the 
harvest,  but  because  it  is  so  much  more  pleasant 
and  helpful  to  look  on  the  bright  side  of  life, 
and  talk  of  victory  rather  than  defeat. 
11 


1 2  Preface 

So  in  the  hope  that  this  book  will  be  helpful 
and  encouraging  to  the  friends  and  supporters 
of  missions,  who  have  become  such  an  innumer- 
able company,  and  that  His  name  may  be 
glorified  thereby,  we  send  it  on  its  way. 

E.  R.  Y. 
Toronto. 


On  the  Indian  Trail 


ON   THE   PKAIRIE   TRAIL 

WE  struck  the  prairie  trail  at  St.  Paul  in 
1868. 

We,  that  is  my  young  wife  and  I  in  company 
with  some  other  missionaries  and  teachers,  were 
to  travel  many  hundreds  of  miles  upon  it,  in 
order  that  we  might  reach  the  wigwam  haunts 
of  the  Indians  in  the  northern  part  of  the  Hud- 
son Bay  Territories,  to  whom  we  had  been  ap- 
pointed to  carry  the  glorious  Gospel  of  the  Son 
of  God. 

We  were  to  follow  up  the  work  begun  by 
men  of  sublime  faith  and  heroic  courage,  and  to 
carry  it  still  farther  into  more  remote  regions 
where  as  yet  the  sweet  story  of  a  Saviour's 
love  had  never  been  heard.  We  had  confidence 
enough  in  God  to  believe  that,  if  fur-traders 
could  travel  along  these  trails,  and  live  in  those 
lonely  remote  regions  far  from  the  blessings  of 
civilisation,  and  in  order  to  make  money  by 
trading  with  the  Indians,  put  up  with  the  hard- 
ships and  privations  incident  to  such  a  life,  we 
13 


14  On  the  Indian  Trail 

could  make  equal  sacrifices  for  Christ's  sake,  to 
cany  the  Glad  Tidings  of  His  great  love  to  those 
who  had  never  heard  the  wondrous  Story. 

After  about  three  weeks'  journeyings,  we  had 
traveled  as  far  as  we  could  by  steamboat  and 
railroad,  and  were  at  the  extreme  limit  of  these 
splendid  methods  of  civilised  locomotion.  From 
this  point  onward  there  was  nothing  before  us 
but  the  prairie  trail.  On  and  on  it  stretched 
for  hundreds  of  miles,  away  and  away  to  the 
land  of  the  north  wind.  Over  its  winding  un- 
dulating course,  long  years  ago,  the  hardy 
pioneers  of  the  new  world  adventured  them- 
selves ;  and  as  they  bravely  pushed  on  they 
were  filled  with  amazement  and  awe  at  the 
vastness  of  the  great  and  illimitable  prairies. 

Following  closely  in  their  trail,  and  even 
sometimes  themselves  the  pioneers,  came  those 
early  heroic  priestly  followers  of  Loyola,  eager 
and  anxious  to  meet  and  to  make  friends  of  the 
wild  Indians  of  the  plains  and  forest,  that 
among  them  they  might  plant  the  cross,  and, 
according  to  their  belief,  by  the  simple  rite  of 
baptism  induct  them  into  the  bosom  of  Mother 
Church. 

In  later  years  much  of  the  romance  of  the 
great  Trail  had  worn  away.  Commerce  and 
Trade  with  their  multiplied  activities  had  so 
taken  possession  of  it  that  when  first  we  saw  it 
in  1868,  the  long  trains  of  noisy  creaking  Red 


On  the  Prairie  Trail  15 

River  carts,  and  the  great  canvas-covered 
wagons  of  the  adventurous  immigrants,  were  the 
most  conspicuous  sights  on  its  dusty  stretches. 
Occasionally  bands  of  Indian  warriors,  plumed 
and  painted,  were  seen  upon  it,  dashing  along  on 
their  fiery  steeds,  out  on  some  marauding  ad- 
venture, or  more  likely,  on  the  lookout  for  the 
vast  herds  of  buffalo  that  still  swarmed  in  the 
regions  farther  west,  like  "  the  cattle  on  a  thou- 
sand hills." 

It  was  one  of  those  perfect  days  in  the  lovely 
month  of  June  when  we  left  the  thriving  young 
city  of  St.  Paul,  and  with  our  canvas-covered 
wagons,  and  fourteen  picked  horses,  really 
entered  on  the  trail.  As  we  left  the  frontier 
city,  thus  severing  the  last  link  that  bound  us  to 
civilisation,  we  realised  most  vividly  that  now 
we  were  entering  upon  our  missionary  work. 

Thirty  days  were  we  on  this  Prairie  Trail. 
Not  all  of  them  were  of  that  rare  beauty  of  the 
first.  Fierce  thunderstorms  several  times  as- 
sailed us  when  it  was  not  always  possible  to 
protect  ourselves  from  the  terrible  downpour  of 
rain.  One  night  a  genuine  cyclone  wrecked 
our  camp ;  tents  and  wagons  with  their  varied 
contents  went  careering  in  erratic  courses  be- 
fore its  irresistible  power. 

Our  way  was  beset  with  dangers :  bridgeless 
streams  had  to  be  crossed ;  prairie  fires  had  to 
be  fought,  or  wildly  run  away  from ;  treacherous 


16  On  the  Indian  Trail 

quicksands  sometimes  spread  most  invitingly 
on  either  side  of  the  miserable  looking  trail, 
lured  the  unwary  traveler  to  trust  himself  on 
their  smooth  and  shining  surface.  But  woe  to 
the  foolish  ones  who  left  the  trail  for  the  quick- 
sands :  unless  speedily  rescued  by  the  united 
strength  of  friends,  horses  and  travelers  would 
soon  be  swallowed  up ;  so  the  warning  cry  of 
the  guide  was  ever :  "  Keep  in  the  trail ! " 

Thus  we  journeyed  on,  sometimes  in  the  sun- 
shine, and  sometimes  in  the  storm.  Every 
morning  and  evening  we  had  our  family  pray- 
ers. The  Sabbaths  were  rest  days  for  all — 
sweet  and  precious  days,  when  out  in  the  sun- 
shine, on  the  glorious  prairies,  we,  a  little 
company  of  missionaries  and  teachers — wor- 
shipped God :  they  were  as  the  days  of  the  Son 
of  Man  on  earth. 

Thirty  days  on  such  a  trail  could  not  pass 
without  some  strange  adventures,  and  we  had 
our  share  of  them  with  white  men  and  with 
Indians. 

A  talkative  parrot  in  our  party  nearly  fright- 
ened the  lives  out  of  some  very  inquisitive  and 
superstitious  Indians  and  French  half-breeds. 
They  had  stopped  their  ox-carts  one  day  at  the 
same  spot  where  we,  coming  in  the  opposite 
direction,  were  resting  for  the  dinner  hour. 
Hearing  about  the  wonderful  parrot,  they 
crowded  around  to  see  her.  Polly  stood  their 


On  the  Prairie  Trail  17 

inquisitive  gazings  for  awhile,  then,  apparently 
somewhat  annoyed,  with  wings  ruffled,  sprang 
forward  as  far  as  she  could  in  her  large  cage, 
and  shouted  out : 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

The  effect  upon  the  superstitious  half-breeds, 
and  Indians,  was  about  as  though  His  Satanic 
Majesty  had  suddenly  appeared  among  them. 
They  rushed  away,  and  nothing  that  we  could 
do  would  induce  any  of  them  to  look  at  the 
bird  again. 

Another  adventure,  most  unique  and  start- 
ling, occurred  on  this  trip  ere  we  had  pro- 
ceeded many  days  on  the  trail. 

"  You  had  better  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  those 
splendid  horses  of  yours,  or  you  may  wake  up 
some  fine  morning  and  find  them  missing." 

This  was  rather  startling  news  and  caused  a 
good  deal  of  excitement  in  our  camp. 

The  speakers  were  some  scouts  from  the 
United  States  army,  who  were  making  a  hur- 
ried trip  from  the  head  waters  of  the  Missouri 
where  the  troops  had  gone  to  quell  some  Indian 
disturbance.  They  were  now  on  their  way  to 
St.  Paul  with  dispatches  for  Washington. 

Each  night  of  our  journey  we  had,  in  true 
western  style,  hobbled  our  horses  and  left  them 
to  roam  about  and  feed  on  the  luxuriant 
grasses.  This  hobbling  is  merely  the  tying  of 
the  forefeet  loosely  together  with  soft  leather 
2 


i8  On  the  Indian  Trail 

thongs  so  that  the  animal  in  moving  has  to  lift 
up  both  forefeet  at  once.  Its  movements  being 
thus  necessarily  slow,  there  is  no  roaming  very 
far  from  the  camp.  Having  had  no  fear  of 
danger,  we  had  been  very  careless,  leaving  every- 
thing unguarded. 

The  terrible  Sioux  massacres  a  few  years  be- 
fore in  these  very  regions,  were  now  being  for- 
gotten. It  is  true  that  as  we  journeyed,  the 
ruins  of  the  destroyed,  and  in  many  places,  not 
yet  rebuilt  homesteads  of  the  settlers,  were 
vivid  reminders  of  those  dreadful  frontier  wars, 
when  over  nine  hundred  white  people  lost  their 
lives.  The  Indians  were  now  however  far  to 
the  north  and  west  of  us,  so  that  we  had  no 
fears  as  we  leisurely  moved  along.  Hence,  it 
was  somewhat  startling  when  these  pictur- 
esquely garbed  scouts  halted  in  our  midst,  and 
warned  us  to  have  a  guard  over  our  horses ; 
telling  us,  that,  the  most  notorious  band  of 
horse  thieves  was  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  was 
rumoured  to  have  heard  that  there  was  a  party 
with  some  magnificent  horses  in  the  prairie 
country,  and  that  doubtless,  even  now,  they 
were  on  the  lookout  for  us  upon  some  of  the 
trails. 

After  a  short  halt  for  a  hurried  meal,  our 
bronzed  well-armed  visitors  left  us.  The  last 
we  saw  of  them  was  as  they  galloped  away 
southward  on  the  trail. 


On  the  Prairie  Trail  19 

Immediately  a  council  was  called,  when  it  was 
decided  to  move  on  to  the  vicinity  of  Clear- 
water,  and  there  remain  until  all  the  final  prep- 
arations for  our  long  trip  were  completed. 
Our  horses  were  turned  loose  and  hobbled  dur- 
ing the  day,  but  were  not  allowed  to  stray  very 
far  from  the  camp.  Watchful  eyes  were  ever 
upon  them,  and  also  scanning  the  prairies  for 
suspicious  intruders.  Before  sundown  they 
were  all  gathered  in  and  securely  fastened  in  a 
large  barn  that  stood  out  upon  the  prairie,  the 
sole  building  left  of  a  large  farmstead :  all  the 
other  buildings,  including  the  dwelling  house, 
had  been  burned  during  the  Indian  wars.  No 
survivors  or  relatives  had  as  yet  come  to  claim 
the  deserted  place,  and  so  the  rich  prairie 
grasses  had  almost  covered  with  their  green 
vendure  the  spot  where  the  destroyed  build- 
ings once  stood  ;  and  now  all  that  remained  to 
tell  of  former  prosperity  was  this  solitary  old 
barn. 

The  men  of  our  party  were  appointed  to 
watch  the  barn  during  the  night  and  protect 
the  horses  against  all  intruders.  Two  well 
armed  persons  were  thought  a  sufficient  guard 
for  each  of  the  eight  or  ten  nights  that  we  re- 
mained in  that  vicinity.  One  night  a  young 
man  of  our  party  and  I  were  appointed  to 
watch.  He  most  thoroughly  equipped  himself 
with  several  varieties  of  weapons,  resolved  to 


20  On  the  Indian  Trail 

be  prepared  for  any  emergency.  I  trusted  to  a 
quick-firing  breech-loading  rifle. 

We  gathered  in  the  horses  from  the  prairies, 
and  were  leading  them  toward  the  barn  when 
we  met  the  leader  of  our  party,  a  man  past 
middle  life,  most  of  whose  years  had  been 
spent  among  the  Indians,  and  in  the  great 
west. 

Looking  at  us  who  were  to  be  the  guards  of 
the  horses  that  night,  he  said,  with  a  sneer  : 

"  Queer  guards  are  you !  I  have  some 
young  Indians  that  could  steal  any  horse  in 
that  crowd  to-night  from  under  your  very 
nose." 

Stung  by  the  sneers  of  this  man,  for  it  was 
not  the  first  time  that  he  had  tried  to  wound,  I 
replied  with  perhaps  too  much  emphasis : 

"  Mr.  -  —  I  have  the  best  horse  in  the  com- 
pany, and  I  will  give  him  to  you,  if  either  you, 
or  any  Indian  living,  can  steal  him  out  of  that 
barn  between  sundown  and  sunrise." 

My  comrade  and  I  carefully  fastened  our 
horses  along  one  side  of  the  barn  where  they 
could  stand  comfortably,  or  lie  down  on  some 
old  prairie  hay  during  the  night.  Then  we  ex- 
amined the  barn.  At  one  end  were  the  usual 
large  double  doors  sufficiently  wide  and  high  to 
admit  of  the  entrance  of  a  wagon  loaded  with 
hay  or  sheaves  of  grain.  At  the  other  end  was 
a  small  door  which  we  securely  fastened  on  the 


On  the  Prairie  Trail  21 

inside.  We  then  carefully  examined  the  build- 
ing for  other  places  of  ingress  to  make  sure 
that  there  were  no  openings  sufficiently  large 
for  even  a  naked  savage  to  squeeze  through. 
When  thoroughly  satisfied  with  our  survey,  we 
collected  a  quantity  of  dried  hay,  and  made 
ourselves  some  comfortable  seats,  where  we 
could,  without  being  seen,  command  the  large 
end  doors :  one  of  which  was  fastened  inside 
with  a  hook  and  staple,  while  the  other  had 
only  the  usual  wooden  latch. 

We  moved  about  and  chatted  on  various  sub- 
jects during  the  long  beautiful  gloaming,  and 
when  the  darkness  settled  down  upon  us,  we 
made  ourselves  comfortable  in  our  assigned  po- 
sitions, and  with  rifles  in  hand,  were  indeed  sen- 
tinels on  the  watch.  As  the  excitement  of  the 
occasion  wore  off,  my  young  companion  who 
was  still  in  his  teens,  began  to  feel  exceedingly 
drowsy.  I  told  him  to  cuddle  down  in  the  hay 
and  go  to  sleep  for  a  while,  and  if  there  was 
any  appearance  of  danger  I  would  instantly 
awake  him.  Very  soon  he  was  sleeping  quietly 
at  my  feet.  He  had  generously  requested  me 
to  awake  him  when  he  had  slept  an  hour  or  so, 
offering  then  to  take  my  place.  Thanking  him, 
I  said :  "  Get  some  sleep  if  JTOU  can ;  there  is 
none,  however,  for  me  to-night " — I  remem- 
bered too  well  those  taunting  words,  and  could 
not  have  slept  had  I  tried. 


22  On  the  Indian  Trail 

As  the  hours  slowly  rolled  along,  I  could  not 
but  think  of  the  strange  transitions  of  the  last 
few  weeks.  Not  six  weeks  before  this  I  was 
the  pastor  of  a  large  church  in  a  flourishing 
city.  Then  I  was  living  in  a  beautiful  home 
with  all  the  comforts  and  conveniences  of  civili- 
sation around  me,  where  the  vigilant  policemen 
paced  their  various  rounds,  while  we  in  peace 
and  safety  rested  without  one  thought  of  dan- 
ger ;  now  I  was  in  the  far  West,  away  from  the 
society  and  comforts  of  other  days,  on  the 
boundless  plains  where  dangers  lurk,  and  law- 
less, thievish  vagabonds  abound.  Not  long  ago 
I  was  in  my  own  pulpit  preaching  to  large  con- 
gregations; now,  during  the  quiet  hours  of 
this  night,  I  was  sitting  on  a  bundle  of  dried 
prairie  grass  in  an  old  barn,  defending  a  lot  of 
horses  from  horse  thieves.  Strange  transforma- 
tions are  these.  Truly  life  is  a  play,  and  we, 
the  actors,  little  know  what  parts  we  shall  next 
be  called  on  to  assume. 

Thus  I  mused ;  but  hush !  What  noise  is 
that  ?  Surely  it  cannot  be  that  a  cunning  horse 
thief  would  come  so  deliberately  this  beautiful 
starlit  night  and  try  at  the  principal  door  to 
seek  an  entrance.  No  stealthy  Indian  clever 
at  horse  stealing  would  begin  his  operations  in 
such  a  way. 

But  there  is  the  sound,  nevertheless.  Evi- 
dently it  is  that  of  a  hand  feeling  for  the  latch. 


On  the  Prairie  Trail  23 

Strict  orders  had  been  given  at  the  camp, 
that  under  no  consideration  should  any  one  of 
our  party  approach  the  barn  after  dark.  So, 
here  was  an  intruder  who  must  be  promptly 
dealt  with,  before  he  could  draw  and  fire. 

Springing  up  and  lifting  the  rifle  to  my 
shoulder,  I  waited  until  the  intruder's  hand  had 
found  the  latch..  Then  the  door  swung  open 
and  there  he  stood;  a  very  tall  man,  clearly 
outlined  in  the  starry  night. 

My  first  grim  resolve  was  to  fire  at  once. 
Then  there  came  the  thought :  "  It  is  a  terrible 
thing  suddenly  to  send  a  soul  into  eternity. 
Perhaps  he  is  not  a  horse  thief.  He  may  be 
some  lone  wanderer  on  the  prairies,  who,  seeing 
this  old  barn,  desires  to  get  under  its  shelter 
out  of  the  heavy  dews.  You  have  him  covered 
with  your  rifle ;  even  if  he  is  a  desperate  horse 
thief  bent  on  mischief,  ere  he  can  draw  his 
weapons,  you  can  easily  drop  him." 

These  thoughts  must  have  flashed  through 
my  brains  very  rapidly  for  the  man  had  not  yet 
entered  the  barn  when  I  had  decided  on  my 
course  of  action. 

So,  while  keeping  him  covered  with  my  rifle, 
and  with  my  hand  upon  the  trigger,  I  shouted : 

"  Who's  there  ?  " 

"  It's  only  Matthew.  Surely  you  ought  to 
know  me  by  this  time." 

Instead  of  an  enemy,  there  came  stumbling 


24  On  the  Indian  Trail 

along  in  the  darkness,  one  of  our  young  friends 
from  the  camp :  a  school-teacher,  going  out  to 
instruct  the  Indians  in  the  plains  of  the  Sas- 
katchewan. 

Groping  his  way  along,  he  said :  "  It  is  aw- 
fully close  and  hot  down  there  in  the  camp,  and 
so  I  thought  I  would  rather  come  and  spend  the 
rest  of  the  night  with  you  in  the  barn." 

Foolish  fellow !  he  little  knew  how  near  he 
had  come  to  losing  his  life  by  this  direct  breach 
of  orders. 

As  I  recognised  his  voice  in  answer  to  my 
challenge,  and  realised  how  near  I  had  come  to 
shooting  one  of  our  party,  a  quick  reaction 
seized  me,  and  dropping  the  gun,  I  sank  back 
trembling  like  a  leaf. 

After  chatting  away  at  a  great  rate,  he  at 
length  settled  down  in  the  hay,  and  went  to 
sleep  without  having  the  slightest  idea  of  the 
risk  he  had  run,  or  of  the  part  I  had  played  in 
what  came  so  near  being  a  tragedy. 

I  continued  my  watch  until  relieved  at  sun- 
rise, and  then,  with  my  comrade,  turned  over 
all  the  horses  safe  and  sound  to  those  whose 
duty  it  was  to  watch  them  while  they  were 
feeding  on  the  prairies. 

There  was  a  row  for  a  time  when  I  reported 
to  the  leaders  of  our  company  the  visit  to  the 
barn.  The  good-natured  delinquent  was  the 
subject  of  a  great  deal  of  scolding,  which  he  bore 


On  the  Prairie  Trail  25 

with  an  unruffled  demeanour.  As  he  was  six 
feet,  six  inches  and  a  half  in  stature,  no  physi- 
cal castigation  was  administered ;  nor  was  any 
needed;  he  was  so  thoroughly  frightened  when 
he  heard  how  he  had  stood  under  cover  of  my 
rifle  with  my  finger  on  the  trigger. 


II 

ON  THE   INDIAN   TKAIL 

WE  will  call  the  routes  over  which  I  traveled 
on  my  large  mission  field,  "Indian  trails;" 
but  the  name  at  times  would  be  found  to  be 
inept,  as  often,  for  scores  of  miles,  there  was 
not  the  least  vestige  of  a  track  or  path.  This 
was  because  there  was  so  little  travel  in  sum- 
mer of  a  character  that  would  make  a  well  de- 
fined trail,  for  during  that  season  the  Indians 
preferred  to  avail  themselves  of  the  splendid 
and  numerous  lakes  and  rivers,  which  enabled 
them  to  travel  very  easily  by  canoe  in  almost 
any  direction. 

Thus,  when  obliged  to  travel  on  the  short 
stretches  of  the  so-called,  "  Indian  trail,"  it  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at  if  the  missionary  some- 
times lost  his  way,  and  had  to  be  sought  after 
and  found,  much  to  the  amusement  of  the  In- 
dians who  constituted  the  hunting  party. 

"  Good  missionary,  but  him  lost  the  trail." 
More  than  once  was  I  so  addressed  by  my 
clever  and  experienced  Indian  canoemen,  with 
whom  every  summer  I  used  to  journey  hundreds 
of  miles  into  remote  regions,  to  find  the  poor 
sheep  of  the  wilderness,  to  whom  to  preach  the 
26 


"Gooo  MISSIONARY,  BUT  HIM  LOST  THE  TRAIL. 


On  the  Indian  Trail  27 

glorious  Gospel  of  the  Son  of  God.  These 
summer  routes  lay  through  many  lakes,  and  up 
and  down  rushing  rivers  full  of  rapids  and 
cataracts.  Generally  two  skilful  Indian  canoe- 
men  were  my  companions,  one  of  whom  was 
called,  "  the  guide." 

The  Indians,  for  whom  we  were  seeking, 
drifted  naturally  from  their  hunting  grounds  in 
the  forests,  to  the  shores  of  the  lakes  and 
rivers,  for  the  sake  of  the  fish,  which,  during 
the  summer  months,  could  be  easily  obtained 
and  which  then  constituted  their  principal  food. 
The  result  was,  that  while  in  winter,  with  our 
dog-trains,  we  could  go  anywhere — the  terrible 
ice-king  freezing  everything  solid  from  the 
lakes  and  rivers  to  the  great  quaking  bogs — 
in  summer,  we  were  confined  to  those  trips 
which  could  be  only  made  by  the  birch-bark 
canoe  :  in  no  other  way  could  the  Gospel  be 
carried  to  these  people.  After  we  became  ac- 
customed to  the  canoe  and  dog-train,  we  re- 
joiced that  we  were  counted  worthy  to  be  the 
Messengers  of  Good  Tidings  to  these  neglected 
ones,  who,  having  lost  faith  in  their  old  pagan- 
ism, were  longing  for  something  better. 

One  summer  in  the  early  years  of  my  mis- 
sionary life,  when  I  had  had  but  little  experi- 
ence in  the  northern  methods  of  travel  and  was 
a  novice  at  finding  my  way  on  an  obscure  trail, 
I  took  a  trip  which  I  remember  very  distinctly ; 


28  On  the  Indian  Trail 

partly,  because  of  the  difficulty  I  had  in  keeping 
the  trail  when  alone,  and  partly  because  of  the 
dangers  to  which  I  was  exposed  when  I  lost  it. 

My  birch  canoe  was  a  good  one.  It  was 
made  especially  for  running  rapids,  and  was  so 
light  that  one  man  could  easily  carry  it  on  his 
head  when  necessary.  I  had  as  my  companions 
two  very  capable  Indian  canoemen.  One  of 
them  had  never  been  over  that  route  before, 
and  the  other,  whom  by  courtesy,  we  called, 
"  our  guide,"  had  only  once  traveled  that  way 
— and  that,  several  years  before  the  date  of  this 
trip. 

All  the  able  bodied  men  of  my  mission  ex- 
cepting these  two,  were  away  serving  the  Hud- 
son Bay  Company  as  tripmen,  which  was  the 
reason  why  I  could  not  obtain  men  better  ac- 
quainted with  the  long  route.  I  had  either  to 
take  these  men  and  run  a  good  deal  of  risk,  or 
wait  another  year  to  carry  the  Gospel  to  those 
hundreds  who  had  never  heard  it,  and  who  had 
sent  a  pleading  call  for  me  to  come  and  tell 
them  what  the  Great  Spirit  said  in  His  Book. 
So,  after  much  prayer,  I  decided,  trusting  in 
God  and  in  these  men,  to  make  the  journey. 

The  country  through  which  we  traveled  was 
one  of  the  roughest  and  wildest  in  that  dreary, 
desolate  land.  The  streams  were  so  full  of 
rapids  that  we  had  constantly  to  be  making 
portages.  This  was  slow  and  laborious  work. 


On  the  Indian  Trail  29 

Our  method  of  procedure  was  something  like 
this  :  as  soon  as  we  discovered  that  the  current 
was  too  rapid  to  be  safe,  or  that  we  were  near- 
ing  some  great  falls,  we  went  ashore  and 
quickly  unloaded  our  canoe ;  William,  the 
guide,  easily  lifted  it  upon  his  head  and  start- 
ing off,  soon  disappeared  in  the  forest,  running 
where  possible,  and  keeping  parallel  with  the 
raging  stream  until  he  reached  a  place  below 
where  the  waters  were  again  navigable ;  Peter, 
my  other  Indian,  as  speedily  as  possible  made  a 
large  bundle  of  our  blankets,  kettles,  and  sup- 
plies, and  with  this  upon  his  back,  supported 
by  a  carrying  strap  round  his  forehead,  quickly 
followed  the  trail  made  by  William ;  while  to 
me  was  assigned  the  work  of  carrying  the  guns, 
ammunition,  changes  of  raiment,  and  the  pres- 
ents, and  Bibles  for  the  Indians  we  expected  to 
visit.  Although  my  load  was  not  nearly  as 
heavy  as  those  carried  by  my  stalwart  canoe- 
men,  yet  I  was  utterly  unable  to  keep  up  with 
them  in  the  trail.  Indians,  when  thus  loaded, 
never  walk:  they  seem  to  glide  along  on  a 
swinging  trot  that  carries  them  over  the  ground 
very  rapidly.  A  white  man,  unaccustomed  to 
this  pace,  is  very  soon  left  behind.  This  was 
my  experience.  All  I  could  do,  was  to  trudge 
bravely  along  under  my  miscellaneous  load, 
which  was  becoming  constantly  disarranged, 
thus  causing  delay. 


30  On  the  Indian  Trail 

But  my  greatest  trouble  was  to  keep  the 
trail.  There  was  absolutely  no  path.  All  the 
trail,  was  that  made  by  my  two  Indians,  and 
Indians  are  trained  to  leave  as  little  evidence 
of  their  movements  as  possible.  So  I  was  often 
lost.  I  would  at  the  beginning  of  the  portage, 
bravely  shoulder  my  burden  and  endeavor  to 
keep  in  sight  of  my  men.  This,  however,  I 
found  to  be  an  utter  impossibility.  A  sharp 
turn  among  the  rocky  ridges,  or  a  plunge  into 
the  dense  dark  forest,  and  they  were  gone  from 
my  vision.  Then  my  perplexities  began.  If, 
as  some  times  happened,  the  trail  was  through 
mud,  or  reeds  and  rushes,  I  could  generally 
follow  them  in  it ;  but,  as  more  frequently  hap- 
pened, the  trail  was  over  rocky  ridges,  or 
through  dense  forests,  sometimes  for  miles,  and 
I  was  often  completely  bewildered  and  lost. 

The  trouble  at  first  was,  that  being  too  per- 
plexed, or  too  ignorant  of  what  was  the  safer 
course  to  pursue,  I  would  quicken  my  pace  and 
hurry  on — somewhere.  On  and  on  I  would 
stumble  under  my  heavy  awkward  load  until 
the  sweat  fell  like  rain  from  my  brow  and  my 
back  ached.  More  than  once  when  thus  hur- 
rying I  have  been  startled  by  some  savage 
beast,  that  with  a  snort  or  a  growl,  dashed 
away  in  front  of  me.  This  only  added  speed 
to  my  footsteps,  and  frightened  now  I  would 
hurry  on,  until  utterly  worn-out  and  exhausted 


On  the  Indian  Trail  31 

I  threw  off  my  heavy  burdens  and  sank  down 
on  the  nearest  rock  or  log,  tired  out.  Perhaps 
in  my  ignorance  and  perversity  I  had  wandered 
far  away,  even  in  an  opposite  direction  from 
that  which  I  should  have  taken. 

Fortunate  was  it  for  me  that  I  had  such  men 
for  my  comrades.  I  knew  their  worth  and 
loyalty,  as  well  as  ..their  ability  quickly  to  find 
me.  As  soon  as  they  had  safely  reached  the 
end  of  the  portage  they  would  be  on  the  alert 
for  my  arrival.  If  I  delayed  beyond  what 
they  thought  to  be  sufficient  time  they  would 
set  off  on  the  back  trail  looking  for  me.  With 
that  unerring  instinct  which  so  many  of  them 
possess  in  woodcraft,  and  which  to  me  always 
seemed  perfectly  marvelous,  they  soon  found 
where  I  had  wandered  from  the  trail.  From 
this  point  they  had  not  the  slightest  difficulty 
in  following  and  finding  me.  Without  any 
chiding,  but  with  perhaps  a  pitying  look  and  a 
quiet  utterance  that  sounded  like,  "  Good  mis- 
sionary, but  him  lost  the  trail,"  they  would 
quickly  pick  up  my  burdens,  and  safely  guide 
me  to  our  waiting  canoe.  All  I  had  to  carry 
was  perhaps  the  Book  which  I  had  with  me,  the 
reading  of  which,  enabled  me  profitably  to  pass 
the  hours  that  often  elapsed  ere  my  faithful 
men  found  me. 

We  lived  on  just  what  we  could  shoot,  as  it 
was  impossible  to  carry  additional  supplies  in  a 


32  On  the  Indian  Trail 

birch  canoe.  Hunter's  luck  varies  considerably 
even  in  a  land  of  game,  and  we  at  least  had 
variety  in  our  bill  of  fare.  Black  bears  being 
still  numerous  in  those  wild  regions  we  some- 
times had  bear's  steak  broiled  on  the  coals,  or 
ribs  skidded  on  a  stick  and  nicely  browned  be- 
fore the  fire.  When  my  canoemen  had  time  to 
prepare  the  bear's  feet  and  boil  them  they  were 
quite  a  luxury.  In  fact,  the  three  great 
luxuries  specially  prized  by  the  denizens  of 
that  country  are,  the  beaver's  tails,  the  moose's 
nose,  and  the  bear's  paws.  Rarely  was  a  deer 
shot  on  those  canoe  trips,  unless  it  happened  to 
be  in  the  far  north  regions,  where  occasionally 
one  was  caught  swimming  far  out  from  land  in 
a  great  lake.  When  one  was  thus  killed,  there 
was  of  course  abundance  of  food,  but  so  little  of  it 
could  be  carried  with  us,  that  the  larger  portion 
had  to  be  left  to  be  devoured  by  wolves,  wol- 
verines, or  other  wild  animals.  However,  in 
leaving  all  this  meat  on  the  trail  the  words  of 
the  Psalmist  would  come  to  us : 

"He  giveth  to  the  beast  his  food,  and  to 
the  young  ravens  which  cry."  Perhaps  it  was 
only  carrying  out  His  great  purposes,  when  we 
thus  left  all  this  food  for  some  of  His  crea- 
tures to  whom,  "  He  giveth  their  meat  in  due 
season." 

Wild  ducks,  geese,  and  other  aquatic  birds 
were  occasionally  shot,  affording  us  most  savory 


On  the  Indian  Trail  33 

food,   as  did  also  the  beavers,  wild-cats,  and 
muskrats. 

Our  nights  were  spent  where  the  day's 
journey  ended.  Missionaries  in  nearly  all 
lands  can  generally  find  some  human  habita- 
tion in  which  to  obtain  or  prepare  their  food 
and  spend  the  night.  As  a  child,  I  used  to 
listen  with  intense  interest  to  my  beloved 
father,  who  for  many  years  had  been  a  pioneer 
missionary  in  what  were  then  known  as  the 
wilds  of  Upper  Canada — tell  of  his  adventures. 
Many  had  been  his  hardships  and  dangers,  but 
I  remember  he  used  to  say,  that  he  could  gen- 
erally find  the  comfortable  log-cabin  of  a 
friendly  settler  in  which  to  pass  the  night. 
The  trail  in  the  wild  north  land  leads 
through  regions  of  country  thousands  of  miles 
in  extent,  where  there  is  not  even  to  be  found  a 
leather  tepee  or  a  birch-bark  wigwam,  much 
less  a  house.  The  result  was,  when  making 
such  journeys,  we  had  to  do  the  next  best 
thing,  and  that  was  to  camp  at  the  spot  where 
night  overtook  us.  Of  course  we  were  on  the 
lookout  for  as  comfortable  a  place  as  it  was 
possible  to  find.  A  smooth  dry  granite  rock 
for  our  bed,  and  dry  wood  with  which  to  make 
our  fires,  where  we  cooked  our  food  and  dried 
our  clothes,  were  always  considered  the  essen- 
tial requisites  for  a  comfortable  camp.  Warm 
days  alternated  with  damp  and  chilly  ones,  but 

3 


34  On  the  Indian  Trail 

the  nights  were  generally  cold.  The  bright 
warm  camp-fire  was  always  welcomed  with 
great  delight  after  a  day's  journey  of  sixty  miles 
on  the  trail.  Pleasant  indeed  are  the  memories 
of  happy  restful  hours  so  spent,  when  the  good 
honest  day's  work  was  done,  and  the  time  of 
rest  well  earned.  After  the  hearty  evening 
meal  and  prayers,  it  was  such  a  luxury  to  be 
able  to  stretch  our  cramped  limbs  before  a 
glorious  camp-fire  on  the  rocky  shore  of  some 
great  river  or  picturesque  lake.  Then  the  at- 
tempt to  read  even  some  favourite  author  was 
not  always  a  great  success.  It  seemed  more 
congenial  just  to  lie  there,  and  muse,  and  watch 
the  dying  of  the  day  as  the  brightness  gradually 
faded  out  of  the  western  sky,  and  the  stars  in 
their  modest  way,  one  by  one,  came  out  into 
conscious  vision,  until  the  whole  heavens  were 
lit  up  by  their  radiance.  The  only  sounds  were 
the  roar  of  the  distant  cataract,  the  music  of 
the  running  stream,  the  rippling  of  the  waves 
at  our  feet,  broken  some  nights  by  the  occa- 
sional cry  of  a  wild  bird  or  beast,  from  among 
the  trees  of  the  encircling  forest.  The  quiet? 
picturesquely  garbed  men  in  their  statuesque 
attitudes  added  much  to  the  attractiveness  of 
the  surroundings. 

Then  at  night  very  close  to  the  heart,  and 
appropriate,  were  the  words  of  the  Psalmist : 
"  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and 


On  the  Indian  Trail  35 

« 

the  firmament  showeth  His  handiwork ; "  and, 
"  When  I  consider  thy  heavens,  the  work  of 
thy  fingers,  the  moon  and  stars  which  thou 
hast  ordained  ;  what  is  man  that  thou  art  mind- 
ful of  him,  and  the  son  of  man  that  thou,  visit- 
est  him  ?  " 

But  the  nights  spent  on  the  Indian  trail, 
were  not  always  so  delightful,  or  so  conducive 
to  lofty  and  celestial  sentiments.  When  the 
cyclonic  winds  howled  around  us  through  the 
long  night  hours,  blowing  with  such  fury  that 
it  required  all  of  our  watchfulness  and  strength 
to  prevent  canoe,  blankets,  and  bundles  from 
being  blown  into  the  lake  or  river,  our  thoughts 
were  not  among  the  stars.  Sometimes  the 
black  thunderclouds  gathered  and  the  rain  fell 
upon  us  in  torrents,  putting  out  our  fires,  per- 
haps before  our  evening  meal  was  cooked, 
drenching  us  completely,  and  continuing  some- 
times so  long  that  we  had  not  a  dry  stitch  upon 
us  for  days  together.  Under  such  circum- 
stances, while  ringing  some  quarts  of  water  out 
of  our  clothes,  or  from  the  blankets  in  which 
we  had  slept,  there  was  no  disposition  to  senti- 
mentalise about  the  rippling  of  the  waves  on 
the  shore  or  the  distant  waterfall. 

Thus  in  storm  as  in  sunshine,  it  was  necessary 
that  the  missionary  and  his  faithful  canoemen 
should  be  on  the  trail,  if  the  Book  were  to  be 
carried,  and  its  glorious  truths  proclaimed  to 


36  On  the  Indian  Trail 

those  wandering  people  in  their  wigwam  homes, 
in  regions  so  remote  and  inaccessible  that  in  no 
other  way  could  they  be  reached  during  the 
brief  summer  months.  However,  in  spite  of 
its  hardships  and  dangers,  the  results  accom- 
plished more  than  compensated  for  them  all. 
Physical  sufferings  are  not  worthy  of  record, 
where  successful  work  has  been  done  in  the 
conversion  of  immortal  souls  for  whom  the 
Saviour  died.  Many  have  been  the  trophies 
won  and  marvelous  the  transformations  wrought 
as  the  result  of  these  difficult  trips  on  the 
Indian  trail.  The  missionaries,  numbers  of 
whom  are  still  toiling  upon  them,  rejoice  that 
they  are  counted  worthy  to  endure  such  hard- 
ness, and  to  be  "  in  perils  oft "  for  His  glory, 
and  for  the  salvation  of  those  for  whom  He 
died. 

As  regards  some  abiding  results  attained  by 
these  adventurous  trips,  one  or  two  incidents 
are  here  recorded. 

On  these  long  journeys,  the  missionary  gen- 
erally carried  with  him  a  small  assortment  of 
medicines.  He  well  knew  that  many  a  hard 
heart  could  be  reached,  and  many  a  prejudice 
overcome,  by  the  healing  of  some  afflicted 
member  of  the  family,  when  all  other  means 
for  influencing  them  for  good,  had  for  the  time 
being  failed. 

At  one  remote  pagan  village  dwelt  a  man, 


On  the  Indian  Trail  37 

who  had  refused  most  positively  to  become  a 
Christian.  When  urged  to  accept  of  Chris- 
tianity he  had  most  emphatically  repeated  the 
expression  most  common  among  them :  "  As 
my  fathers  lived  and  died,  so  will  I." 

He  came  to  me  one  day  in  a  state  of  much 
perplexity,  and  after  speaking  about  several 
things,  mentioned  the  thankfulness  that  was  in 
his  heart  on  account  of  my  having  cured  his 
wife,  who  had  been  sick  a  long  time.  The  way 
in  which  he  expressed  himself,  however,  showed 
the  great  ignorance  under  which  he  was  living. 
His  words  were  something  like  these,  and  most 
emphatically  were  they  uttered : 

"  Missionary,  my  wife  was  long  sick.  I  went 
to  the  medicine  man  of  my  people  to  cure  her. 
He  tried  and  tried,  but  he  could  not  do  her 
any  good.  Then  I  came  to  you,  and  your 
medicines  cured  her,  and  she  soon  got  well.  So 
I  believe,  that  as  your  medicine  is  stronger  than 
that  of  the  medicine  men  of  our  religion,  your 
religion  must  be  better  than  ours.  My  wife 
and  I  have  talked  it  over,  and  we  want  to  sit  at 
your  feet,  and  learn  of  this  new  way." 

Of  course  there  was  a  good  deal  in  his  mind 
that  was  erroneous,  and  I  had  to  explain  my- 
self literally  and  enlighten  him,  ere  I  could 
begin  to  teach  him  the  truths  of  the  Gospel. 
However,  I  had  won  his  heart,  and  that  was 
half  of  the  battle.  Now  predisposed  toward 


2814 


38  On  the  Indian  Trail 

the  truth,  he  and  his  wife  gladly  accepted  it. 
They  became  sincere  and  earnest  Christians, 
and  were  both  made  a  blessing  and  a  benedic- 
tion to  their  people. 

There  was  a  great  hunter  who  had  an  only 
son.  He  had  a  number  of  daughters,  but  they 
were  as  nothing  in  his  sight  in  comparison  with 
his  little  boy.  One  day  the  child  fell  sick,  and 
the  medicine  man  of  the  tribe  was  sent  for  in 
great  haste,  a  famous  old  conjuror  by  the  name 
of  Tapastanum.  He  had  some  knowledge  of 
roots  and  herbs,  but  like  the  other  conjurors 
of  his  nation,  pretended  to  depend  upon  his  in- 
cantations and  conjurings  to  effect  his  cures. 
With  a  great  deal  of  ceremony  he  brought  out 
his  sacred  medicine  bag,  his  charms,  and  rattle 
and  drum.  Then  arraying  himself  in  the  most 
hideous  manner  possible,  he  began  his  wild  in- 
cantations. He  howled  and  yelled,  he  shook 
his  rattle  and  beat  his  drum.  All  however  was 
in  vain.  The  child  rapidly  became  worse  as  the 
days  passed.  Seeing  that  there  was  no  improve- 
ment, the  father  became  thoroughly  alarmed 
and  lost  all  faith  in  Tapastanum's  power. 
Fearing  however  to  offend  him,  he  gave  him 
some  presents  of  tea  and  tobacco,  and  told  him 
that  he  need  not  trouble  himself  to  come  again. 

Up  to  this  time  he  had  refused  to  listen  to 
the  missionary's  teachings.  He  had  been  loud 
and  almost  persecuting  in  his  opposition  to  the 


On  the  Indian  Trail  39 

preaching  of  the  Gospel  among  his  people,  and 
had  refused  to  come  where  the  friendly  Indians 
gathered  under  the  trees  to  hear  the  Word  read 
and  explained. 

Indian-like,  however,  he  had  been  most  ob- 
servant, and  it  had  not  escaped  his  notice  that 
some  cures  had  been  effected  by  the  pale  face 
that  had  been  too  difficult  for  the  native  medi- 
cine men.  So,  when  he  saw  his  little  boy  get- 
ting worse  and  worse,  in  spite  of  all  the  yells 
and  antics  of  the  conjuror,  so  soon  as  he  had 
dismissed  him,  he  came  for  the  missionary,  and 
in  a  tone  very  different  from  that  which  he  had 
first  used,  almost  begged  him  to  come  and  save 
his  little  boy. 

"  I  will  do  the  best  I  can,"  said  the  mission- 
ary, who  was  thankful  for  an  opportunity  thus, 
perhaps,  to  win  his  friendship  and  to  lead  him 
to  the  cross. 

When  he  examined  the  boy  he  found  that  it 
was  a  serious  case  of  inflammation,  so  he  can- 
didly told  the  father,  that  as  the  disease  had 
run  so  long,  it  was  hard  to  say  whether  he 
would  be  able  to  cure  him  or  not,  but  he  would 
gladly  do  his  best.  The  Indian  father  urged 
him  to  begin  at  once  to  do  all  that  was  possible 
to  save  his  boy ;  saying,  that  he  would  be  so 
glad  if  his  child  recovered,  and  would  not 
blame  the  missionary  if  he  died. 

Prompt    remedies  were    applied,  and  with 


4-O  On  the  Indian  Trail 

God's  blessing,  and  careful  nursing,  the  child 
recovered,  greatly  to  the  joy  of  the  father. 

Not  long  after,  as  the  missionary  gathered 
the  people  together  for  religious  service,  he  was 
pleased  to  see,  leaning  against  a  distant  tree, 
the  once  stubborn  old  Indian  whose  son  had 
been  healed.  It  was  evident  that  he  was  anx- 
ious to  hear  what  that  missionary  who  had 
cured  his  boy  had  to  say,  and  yet,  he  was  still 
too  proud  to  come  and  sit  with  the  friendly 
Indians,  who  were  anxious  to  learn  about  the 
message  which  the  Great  Spirit  had  sent  to  the 
people.  So  he  compromised  by  taking  a  posi- 
tion on  the  outskirts  of  the  audience. 

Fortunately  the  missionary  was  gifted  with 
a  strong  clear  voice,  so  without  any  apparent 
effort,  he  told  the  story  of  God's  love  in  Jesus 
Christ  in  a  tone  that  could  be  distinctly  heard 
by  all,  even  by  the  distant  hunter  leaning  against 
the  tree. 

Very  attentively  did  that  Indian  listen  to  all 
that  was  said,  and  so  interested  was  he,  that  at 
the  next  service  he  stood  at  a  tree  considerably 
nearer  the  speaker.  The  next  service  he  was 
in  the  midst  of  the  audience,  and  a  few  weeks 
later  he  was  at  the  Cross,  a  happy  converted 
man. 

It  was  interesting  and  delightful  to  listen  to 
his  after  apologies,  and  chidings  of  himself  for 
his  stubborn  opposition  to  that  in  which  he  now 


On  the  Indian  Trail  41 

so  delighted.  Among  other  things  he  would 
say: 

"But  missionary,  you  know  that  I  was  so 
foolish  and  stubborn.  I  was  then  blind  and 
deaf;  but  now  I  have  rubbed  the  dust  out  of 
my  eyes,  pulled  the  moss  out  of  my  ears,  so  now 
I  see  clearly  and  hear  all  right.  Then,  I  could 
only  say  hard  things  against  the  Book  which  I 
thought  was  only  for  the  white  man,  but  now, 
I  have  found  that  it  is  for  every  one,  and  I  love 
to  think  and  talk  about  the  good  things  that  it 
has  brought  to  us." 

Long  centuries  ago  Isaiah  prophesied : 

"  Then  the  eyes  of  the  blind  shall  be  opened, 
and  the  ears  of  the  deaf  shall  be  unstopped ; 

"  Then  shall  the  lame  man  leap  as  an  hart, 
and  the  tongue  of  the  dumb  sing  : 

"  For  in  the  wilderness  shall  waters  break  out, 
and  streams  in  the  desert." 

Here  in  this  wild  north  land,  as,  thank  God, 
it  has  been  on  many  other  mission  fields,  this 
glorious  prophecy  had  been,  and  is  being,  most 
literally  fulfilled.  Eyes  long  spiritually  blinded 
are  now  open  to  behold  the  blessed  light,  deaf 
ears  have  been  unstopped  and  now  hear  His 
loving  voice,  and  tongues  unloosened  by  His 
power  make  the  wilderness  vocal  with  His 
praise. 


Ill 

PKACTICAL  WORK  IN  INDIAN  HOMES 

SINCE  the  opening  up  of  the  heart  of  Africa, 
by  the  indomitable  courage  and  zeal  of  such 
men  as  Speke  and  Moffat,  Baker  and  Living- 
stone, Stanley  and  Cameron,  Bishop  Taylor  and 
others,  perhaps  one  of  the  least  known  portions 
of  this  habitable  globe  is  the  northern  part  of 
the  great  Dominion  of  Canada.  The  discovery 
of  the  rich  gold  mines  in  the  great  Yukon  River 
district — the  greater  number  by  far  being  in 
Canadian  territory — is  attracting  attention  to 
that  part  of  the  hitherto  unknown  northwestern 
portion  of  the  great  Dominion,  and  will  doubt- 
less lead  to  its  becoming  better  known. 

It  is  true  that  there  are  vast  regions  of  this 
great  country  that  are  of  but  little  value  to 
civilised  people  as  a  home.  Still  there  are  hun- 
dreds of  millions  of  acres  of  land  as  fertile  as 
any  in  the  world,  and  thousands  of  people  are 
crowding  in  every  year  and  taking  possession 
of  what  will  yet  become  one  of  the  greatest 
wheat  producing  portions  of  the  globe. 

From  east  to  west,  through  the  Dominion 
runs  the  great  Canada  Pacific  Railway,  the 
longest  in  the  world.  This  great  road  has  not 
42 


Practical  Work  in  Indian  Homes    43 

only  broken  the  long  silence  of  the  wilderness 
and  opened  up  the  grandest  route  to  the  Ori- 
ent, but  it  has  also  unsettled  the  Indians  in 
their  prairie  and  forest  retreat ;  it  has  not  only 
brought  trade  to  their  wigwam  villages,  but  also 
the  missionary  with  the  Bible  to  their  very  doors. 

But  north  of  these  new  provinces  where  the 
whistle  of  the  iron  horse  is  heard,  are  vast 
regions  that  are  as  free  from  the  inroads  of  the 
adventurous  pioneer  as  is  the  Desert  of  Sahara. 
This  is  a  country  of  magnificent  lakes  and  rivers 
with  their  untold  wealth  of  fish.  Its  vast  forests 
and  morasses  abound  in  furbearing  animals  of 
great  value.  Bears  and  wolves,  reindeer  and 
moose,  and  many  other  animals  which  the  In- 
dians love  to  hunt,  exist  in  large  numbers. 

The  Indian  tribes  of  these  northern  regions 
live  altogether  by  hunting  and  fishing.  They 
are  not  warlike,  as  are  the  tribes  of  the  great 
prairies,  but  in  their  pagan  state  have  many 
vile  and  abominable  practices,  which  show  that 
they  are  just  as  bad  as  those  who  delight  in  war 
and  as  much  in  need  of  the  Gospel. 

Missionaries  of  the  different  denominations 
have  gone  into  these  remote  regions,  have  lived 
amidst  many  privations,  and  have  given  their 
lives  to  the  blessed  work  of  Christianising,  and 
then  civilising  these  long  neglected  people. 
They  have  not  toiled  in  vain.  Thousands  have 
renounced  their  paganism  and  become  earnest, 


44  On  the  Indian  Trail 

genuine  Christians.  The  missionary  life  in 
such  a  land  and  among  such  a  people  is,  as  might 
be  well  imagined,  very  different  from  that  in 
other  countries. 

As  these  mission  fields  are  in  such  high  lati- 
tudes, the  winter  is  very  long  and  severe. 
Hence,  the  habitations  to  be  at  all  comfortable 
must  be  very  warmly  built.  There  is  no  lime- 
stone in  that  land,  and  consequently,  no  lime. 
As  a  poor  substitute,  mud  is  used.  The  houses 
are  built  with  a  framework  of  squared  timber 
which  is  well  logged  up,  and  the  chinks  well 
packed  with  moss  and  mud.  When  this  is 
thoroughly  dry,  and  made  as  air-tight  as  possi- 
ble, the  building  is  clapboarded,  and  lined  with 
torigued  and  grooved  boards.  Double  windows 
are  used  to  help  keep  out  the  bitter  cold. 
When  well  built  and  cared  for,  some  of  these 
homes  are  fairly  comfortable :  very  different 
from  the  wretched,  uncomfortable  abodes  some 
of  the  early  missionaries  were  content  to  dwell 
in. 

As  great  forests  are  everywhere  in  those  re- 
gions, wood  is  used  for  fuel  instead  of  coal. 
Great  box  stoves  are  kept  red  hot  day  and  night 
from  October  until  May. 

The  food  used  by  the  missionaries  was  the 
same  as  that  on  which  the  Indians  lived.  Flour 
was  almost  unknown.  Fish  and  game  afforded 
subsistence  to  nearly  all.  It  is  true  that,  many 


Practical  Work  in  Indian  Homes    45 

years  ago,  the  great  Saskatchewan  brigades  of 
boats  came  to  Norway  house  and  York  factory 
loaded  down  with  vast  quantities  of  pemmican 
and  dried  buffalo  meat ;  but  long  since  the  great 
herds  of  buffalo  have  been  exterminated,  and 
the  far-famed  pemmican  is  now  but  a  memory 
of  the  past.  The  last  time  I  saw  the  wharves 
of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company's  post  at  Norway 
House  piled  up  with  bags  of  pemmican,  was  in 
1871.  This  pemmican  was  pounded  buffalo 
meat,  mixed  with  the  tallow  and  preserved  in 
large  bags  made  out  of  the  green  hides  of  the 
slaughtered  animals,  and  was  the  food  that  for 
some  months  of  each  year  gave  variety  to  our 
fish  diet.  It  was  healthy  and  nourishing  to  per- 
sons of  good  appetites  and  unimpaired  digestive 
organs;  but  to  those  not  to  the  "manner  born," 
or  unaccustomed  to  it  all  their  days,  it  ap- 
peared, whether  cooked  or  raw,  as  partaking 
more  of  the  nature  of  soap  grease,  than  of  any- 
thing more  inviting.  But  it  has  gone  to  return 
no  more  :  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  some,  and 
to  the  regret  of  others. 

I  and  my  Indian  fishermen  used  to  catch  about 
ten  thousand  white  fish  in  gill  nets  every  Octo- 
ber and  November.  These  we  hung  up  on 
great  stages  where  they  froze  as  solid  as  stones. 
A  few  hundred  we  would  pack  away  in  the 
snow  and  ice  for  use  in  the  following  May,  when 
those  left  on  the  stages  began  to  suffer  from  the 


46  On  the  Indian  Trail 

effects  of  the  spring  warmth.  These  ten  thou- 
sand fish  were  needed  by  the  missionary's  family 
and  his  dogs :  the  faithful  dogs,  from  whom  so 
much  was  required,  lived  on  them  all  the  time, 
while  the  missionary's  family  had  them  on  the 
table  twenty-one  times  a  week  for  six  months. 

During  the  winter  we  had  certain  varieties  of 
game  which  I  shot,  or  which  the  Indian  hunters 
brought  in  and  exchanged  with  us  for  tea,  sugar, 
cotton,  flannels,  or  other  things.  All  trade  was 
done  by  barter,  as  there  was  no  money  then  in 
the  land.  During  the  spring  and  summer 
months,  occasionally,  a  wild  goose,  or  some 
ducks  were  obtained,  and  proved  acceptable  ad- 
ditions to  our  bill  of  fare. 

Once  or  twice  during  the  summer  the  boats 
of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company — the  great  trading 
corporation  of  the  country — brought  us  from 
civilisation,  our  yearly  supplies.  These  con- 
sisted of:  a  few  bags  of  flour,  a  keg  of  but- 
ter, a  can  of  coal  oil,  tea,  sugar,  soap,  and  medi- 
cines. They  also  brought  an  assortment  of 
plain,  but  good,  articles  of  clothing  and  dry 
goods  which  we  required  in  our  own  household, 
and  with  which  we  also  paid  the  Indians  whom 
we  had  to  hire,  as  fishermen,  dog-drivers,  canoe- 
men  or  guides  on  my  long  journeys  over  the 
great  mission  field  which  was  several  hundreds 
of  miles  square. 

So  many  were  the  calls  upon  us  on  account 


Practical  Work  in  Indian  Homes    47 

of  the  sickness  and  terrible  poverty  of  the  peo- 
ple, that  often  our  little  stock  of  flour  was  soon 
gone.  Other  luxuries  quickly  followed,  and  in 
the  mission  home,  as  in  the  wigwams  of  the 
natives,  the  great  staple  was  fish,  fish,  fish.' 

So  many  have  inquired  how  Mrs.  Young  and 
I  managed  so  long  to  live  and  thrive,  and  keep 
up  our  health  and  spirits,  on  an  almost  exclu- 
sive fish  diet,  that  I  will  here  give  the  plan  we 
pursued. 

We  were  in  good  health,  and  charmed  with, 
and  thankful  for,  our  work.  We  both  had  so 
much  to  do,  and  were  kept  very  busy  either  in 
our  own  cosy  little  log  house  home,  or  outside 
among  the  Indians,  that  our  appetites  were 
generally  very  good  and  we  were  ready  for  our 
meals  as  soon  as  they  were  ready  for  us.  Still, 
after  all,  the  very  monotony  of  the  unchange- 
able fish  diet  sometimes  proved  too  much  for 
us.  We  would,  perhaps,  be  seated  at  the  break- 
fast table,  neither  of  us  with  any  appetite  for 
the  fish  before  us.  We  would  sip  away  at  our 
cups  of  tea  without  apparently  noticing  that 
the  fish  were  untasted,  and  chat  about  our 
plans  for  the  day. 

"My  dear,"  I  would  say,  "what  are  you  go- 
ing to  do  to-day?" 

"I  am  going  to  have  Kennedy  harness  up  my 
dogs,  and  drive  me  up  the  river  to  Playgreen 
point  to  see  how  that  old  sick  woman  is  getting 


48  On  the  Indian  Trail 

on,  and  take  her  the  warm  blanket  I  promised 
her.  I  will  also  stop  to  see  how  those  sick 
babies  are,  and  how  Nancy's  little  twins  are 
prospering.  In  the  afternoon  I  want  to  drive 
over  to  York  village  and  see  Oosememou's  sick 
wife — What  is  your  day's  programme?" 

To  my  good  wife's  question,  my  answer  would 
be  after  this  fashion : 

"  Well,  first  of  all,  as  word  has  come  that  the 
wolves  have  been  visiting  our  fish-cache,  Mar- 
tin Papanekis  and  I  have  arranged  to  drive  over 
there  with  the  dogs  to  see  the  extent  of  the 
damage.  We  may  be  detained  some  hours 
making  the  place  so  strong,  that  if  they  visit  it 
again,  which  is  likely,  they  will  be  unable  to 
reach  the  fish.  Then  we  will  spend  the  rest  of 
the  day  in  that  vicinity,  visiting  and  praying 
with  the  neighbours." 

Having  taken  our  tea,  we  had  prayers,  and 
soon  after  began  to  carry  out  the  programmes 
of  the  day. 

For  several  winters  we  kept  for  our  varied 
duties,  a  number  of  dogs.  Mrs.  Young  and  I 
each  had  our  favourite  dog-trains.  So  widely 
scattered  were  the  Indians,  and  for  such  diverse 
reasons  did  they  look  to  us  and  claim  our  at- 
tention, that  our  lives  were  full,  not  only  of 
solicitude  for  their  welfare,  but  we  were,  some- 
times for  days  together  kept  on  the  "  go,"  often 
traveling  many  miles  each  day  in  visiting  the 


Practical  Work  in  Indian  Homes    49 

sick  and  afflicted,  and  in  looking  after  the  in- 
terests of  those  who  needed  our  personal  help. 

On  that  particular  day  in  which  the  conver- 
sation above  recorded  was  held,  it  was  after 
dark  ere  our  work  was  accomplished  and  we 
met  in  our  little  dining-room  for  our  evening 
meal.  It  was  really  the  first  meal  of  the  day; 
for  we  had  a  tacit  understanding  that  when 
these  times  arrived  that  we  could  not  really  en- 
joy our  fish  diet,  we  would  resolutely  put  in  the 
whole  day's  work  without  tasting  food.  The 
result  was,  that  when  we  drew  up  to  the  table 
after  having  refused  the  morning  breakfast,  and 
ignored  the  midday  meal,  we  found  that  our 
appetite,  even  for  fish,  had  returned,  and  we 
enjoyed  them  greatly.  And  what  was  more,  the 
appetite  for  them  remained  with  us  for  some 
considerable  time  thereafter. 

Hunger  is  still  a  good  sauce ;  and  we  found 
— and  others  also  have  made  the  same  discovery 
— that  when  the  appetite  fails  and  there  is  a 
tendency  to  criticise,  or  find  fault  with  the 
food,  or  even  with  the  cook,  a  voluntary 
abstinence  for  two  or  three  meals  will  be  most 
beneficial  for  mind  and  body,  and  bring  back  a 
very  decided  appreciation  of  some  of  God's 
good  gifts  which  hitherto  had  been  little 
esteemed. 

Of  course  the  great  and  prominent  work  was 
the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  and  the  teaching 
4 


5<D  On  the  Indian  Trail 

of  the  people  to  read  the  Word  of  God.  To 
this  latter  work  we  devote  a  full  chapter  and 
so  need  not  refer  to  it  here.  Next  perhaps  to 
the  direct  results  obtained  by  the  preaching  of 
the  Word,  we  accomplished  the  most  good  by 
the  medical  work. 

Indians  are  fond  of  medicine  and  are  be- 
lievers in  large  doses.  The  hotter  the  dose  is 
with  cayenne  pepper,  or  the  more  bitter  with 
any  powerful  drug,  the  more  it  is  relished,  and 
the  greater  faith  they  have  in  its  power  to 
effect  a  cure.  Various  were  the  expedients  of 
some  of  them  to  induce  us  to  give  them  a  good 
strong  cup  of  tea,  made  doubly  hot  with  red 
pepper.  In  their  estimation  such  a  dose  was 
good  for  almost  any  disease  with  which  they 
could  be  afflicted,  and  was  especially  welcomed 
in  the  cold  and  wintry  days,  when  the  mercury 
was  frozen  hard,  and  the  spirit  thermometer 
indicated  anything  between  forty  and  sixty  de- 
grees below  zero. 

Practical  sympathy  never  failed  to  reach 
some  hearts,  and  so  influenced  them,  that  they 
were  ultimately  brought  to  Christ. 

So  poverty  stricken  were  the  people,  that  the 
opportunities  of  helping  them  were  many. 
Looked  at  from  our  standpoint  of  comfort,  they 
had  very  little  with  which  to  make  themselves 
happy.  Few  indeed  were  their  possessions. 
Owning  the  land  in  common,  there  was  in  it  no 


Practical  Work  in  Indian  Homes    51 

wealth  to  any  one  of  them  ;  but  neither  were 
there  any  landlords,  or  rents.  All  their  other 
possessions  were  their  wigwams,  traps,  nets, 
guns,  canoes,  dogs,  and  clothing.  They  lived 
from  hand  to  mouth,  as  they  had  no  facilities 
for  keeping  any  surplus  food  even  if  they  were 
ever  fortunate  enough  to  secure  more  than  they 
needed  for  thek  immediate  wants.  If  some 
were  successful  in  killing  a  number  of  deer  or 
bears,  they  made  but  little  attempt  at  trying  to 
dry  or  preserve  some  of  the  meat  for  future  use. 
Very  rarely,  a  little  deer-pemmican  would  be 
made  out  of  some  of  the  venison  ;  but  this  was 
an  exceptional  case.  The  general  plan,  was  to 
keep  open  house  after  a  successful  hunt,  with 
the  pot  boiling  continually,  everybody  wel- 
comed and  told  to  eat  heartily  while  the  supply 
lasted.  He  was  considered  a  mean  man  indeed, 
who,  being  fortunate  in  killing  a  large  quantity 
of  game,  did  not  share  it  with  all  who  happened 
to  come  along.  This  hospitality  was  often  car- 
ried to  such  an  extent,  that  there  would  be  but 
very  little  left  for  the  hunter  himself,  or  for  his 
own  family. 

Thus,  life  among  the  Indians  for  long  gener- 
ations, was  a  kind  of  communism.  No  unfortu- 
nate one  actually  starved  to  death  in  the  village 
so  long  as  there  was  a  whitefish  or  a  haunch  of 
venison  in  the  community.  It  was,  feast  to- 
gether when  plenty  comes ;  starve  together 


52  On  the  Indian  Trail 

when  plenty  goes.  They  could  not  at  first 
understand  why,  when  the  missionary  had  any- 
thing in  his  mission  house,  he  hesitated  about 
giving  it  out  to  any  one  who  said  he  was 
hungry.  This  plan,  of  once  a  year  getting  in 
from  the  outside  world  supplies  to  last  a  whole 
year,  was  indeed  a  mystery  to  them.  They  had 
an  idea  that  it  was  very  nice  to  see  so  many 
things  coining  in  by  the  company's  boats  ;  but 
when  they  were  once  in  the  house,  the  pagan 
Indians  thought  that  they  should  be  used  up  as 
quickly  as  anybody  asked  for  them.  The  prac- 
tice of  rationing  out  the  supplies  to  last  for 
twelve  months,  was  a  style  of  procedure  that 
more  than  once  exposed  a  missionary,  who 
rigidly  adhered  to  it,  to  be  thought  mean, 
stingy,  and  very  unfriendly.  They  even  ques- 
tioned the  truthfulness  of  one  frugal,  careful 
missionary,  who  carried  out  this  system.  When 
asked  to  help  some  hungry  Indians,  he  refused 
on  the  plea  that  he  had  nothing  left,  knowing 
that  that  month's  supply  was  gone.  They  rea- 
soned from  the  fact,  that  they  knew  that  he  had 
the  balance  of  his  }rear's  supply  stored  away. 

One  very  interesting  phase  of  our  work,  was 
to  help  the  Indian  families,  who  had  moved 
from  a  wigwam  into  a  cozy  little  house,  into 
the  mysteries  of  civilised  housekeeping.  It  is 
true  that  these  houses  were  not  very  large  or 
imposing.  They  were  generally  built  only  of 


Practical  Work  in  Indian  Homes    53 

logs,  well  chinked  up  with  moss  and  mud,  and 
consisted  of  but  one  room,  with  the  fireplace  in 
the  end  or  side.  As  the  people  were  able,  they 
put  up  partitions  and  added  various  little  con- 
veniences. At  first,  when  a  family  moved  into 
one  of  these  homes,  some  of  its  members  would 
be  very  much  inclined  to  keep  to  their  wigwam 
habits.  As  those  were  very  shiftless,  and  far 
below  what  we  considered  to  be  their  possi- 
bilities of  methodical  and  tidy  housekeeping, 
some  practical  lessons  had  to  be  given.  As 
they  were  willing  to  learn,  various  plans  and 
methods  were  adopted  to  help  them.  The  fol- 
lowing was  the  most  successful  and  perhaps  on 
the  whole,  to  all  concerned,  the  most  interest- 
ing. When  we  were  aware  that  some  new 
houses  had  been  erected  and  taken  possession 
of  by  families  who  had  known  no  other  habi- 
tations than  their  wigwams,  I  would  announce 
from  the  pulpit  on  Sabbath,  that  during  the 
week,  in  connection  with  my  pastoral  visita- 
tions, Mrs.  Young  and  I  would  dine  at  Puga- 
magon's  house  on  Monday,  on  Tuesday  with 
Oostasemou,  and  on  Wednesday  with  Ooseme- 
mou.  These  announcements  at  first  caused 
great  consternation  among  the  families  men- 
tioned. When  the  services  were  over  and  we 
were  leaving  the  church,  we  would  be  accosted 
by  the  men  whose  names  I  had  mentioned,  gen- 
erally in  words  like  these  : 


54  On  the  Indian  Trail 

"  Could  we  believe  our  ears  to-day,  when  we 
thought  we  heard  you  say,  that  you  and 
Ookemasquao,  (Mrs.  Young's  Indian  name,) 
were  coming  over  to  dine  with  us  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  your  ears  are  all  right.  That  is 
what  they  heard,  and  that  is  what  we  are 
thinking  of  doing,"  would  be  our  answer. 

"Nothing  but  fish  have  we  to  set  before 
you,"  would  generally  be  their  reply,  uttered 
in  tones  of  regret. 

"  Well,  that  is  all  right.  It  is  what  we  gen- 
erally eat  at  home,"  we  would  reply. 

"Well,  but  we  have  no  table  as  yet,  or 
chairs,  or  dishes  fit  for  you,"  would  be  their 
next  objection. 

"  That  is  all  right,  we  are  coming." 

Meantime,  their  half  frightened  wives  would 
be  seen  standing  behind  their  husbands,  most 
attentively  listening  to  the  conversation. 

When  they  found  that  this  enumeration  of 
the  lack  of  variety  of  food  and  the  poverty  of 
their  new  homes,  could  not  deter  us  from  our 
determination  to  dine  with  them,  almost  in  des- 
peration they  would  say  : 

"  Well,  what  are  we  to  do  to  be  ready  to  re- 
ceive you  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  very  question  we  wanted  you 
to  ask,"  I  would  reply.  "  Now  I  will  tell  you 
what  is  in  our  hearts.  Have  plenty  of  your 
fish  ready  and  we  will  look  after  the  rest  of  the 


Practical  Work  in  Indian  Homes    55 

dinner.  But  there  are  several  other  things 
about  which  we  are  anxious,  and  to  which  we 
want  you  to  attend  :  first,  we  want  to  see  when 
we  visit  you,  how  very  clean  and  sweet  your 
new  house  will  be  ;  then,  we  are  also  anxious 
to  see,  how  neat  and  tidy  the  members  of  the 
family  will  be ;  we  also  wish  to  see,  how  bright 
and  polished  all  your  kettles,  pots,  and  plates, 
will  be.  We  are  both  coming  to  your  homes  as 
I  announced,  so  be  on  the  lookout  and  ready 
for  us.  I  believe  we  will  all  have  a  good  time." 

Somewhat  relieved  by  this  interview,  they 
would  start  off  to  their  homes. 

Soon  after  breakfast  on  Monday  morning, 
Mrs.  Young  would  have  her  own  dog-train  and 
cariole  brought  up  to  the  door,  and  aided  by 
willing  hands,  the  cariole  would  be  quickly 
loaded  up  for  the  visit  to  the  Indian  home  an- 
nounced for  that  day's  visit. 

Perhaps  it  is  but  right  here  to  state,  that  we 
never  inflicted  these  visits  upon  our  Indians 
except  when  we  had  abundance  of  supplies  of 
some  kind  or  other  in  the  mission  house,  and 
were  thus  able  to  carry  over  sufficient,  with  the 
fish  the  family  supplied,  for  a  hearty  meal.  So, 
in  her  cariole  Mrs.  Young  had,  not  only  this 
liberal  supply  of  food,  with  plenty  of  tea  and 
sugar,  but  a  large  tablecloth,  dishes,  knives, 
forks,  spoons,  and  other  essentials.  About 
nine  o'clock  she  was  driven  over  to  the  home, 


56  On  the  Indian  Trail 

where,  with  a  certain  amount  of  trepidation, 
the  expectant  family  were  awaiting  her  com- 
ing. They  had  been  at  work  very  early  and 
never  did  a  floor  made  of  well-planed  spruce 
boards  shine  whiter.  For  hours  it  had  been 
scrubbed ;  an  unlimited  amount  of  elbow- 
grease  aided  by  some  soft  soap  made  out  of 
strong  lye  and  the  grease  of  a  fat  dog,  had  done 
the  work  most  completely.  The  faces  of  the 
children  showed  that  they  had  been  most 
thoroughly  polished,  while  all  the  family  were 
arrayed  in  their  Sunday  apparel.  Every  kettle 
and  pot  bore  evidence  of  the  early  hour  at 
which  the  family  had  arisen  and  begun  opera- 
tions. 

The  instructions  given  to  me,  were,  that  I 
was  not  to  put  in  an  appearance  until  about 
half-past  twelve,  and  I  was  so  interested  that  I 
was  generally  on  time. 

It  was  a  very  gratifying  sight  that  met  me, 
and  a  very  cordial  welcome  that  I  received. 
Every  member  of  the  family  was  simply 
radiant  with  happiness,  and  my  good  wife  had 
most  thoroughly  caught  the  contagion  of  the 
hour.  I,  of  course,  shook  hands  all  round  and 
kissed  the  fat  little  baby  in  its  quaint,  moss- 
bag  cradle.  Then,  we  were  speedily  informed 
of  what  was  very  evident,  that  dinner  was 
ready.  There  was  not  a  chair  or  table  in  the 
house.  The  snow  white  tablecloth  was  spread 


Practical  Work  in  Indian  Homes    57 

out  on  the  almost  equally  snow  white  floor,  and 
upon  it  were  placed  in  order  plates,  cups,  and 
saucers,  knives  and  forks.  Then  the  dinner, 
which  had  been  cooked  in  various  pots,  and 
pans,  at  the  capacious  fireplace,  was  served  up, 
or  rather,  down,  and  in  our  assigned  places  we 
seated  ourselves  Indian -like,  upon  the  floor. 
After  heaven's  blessing  was  asked,  the  feast 
began.  The  menu  was  not  very  elaborate. 
Spoiled  children  of  luxury,  with  lost  appetites, 
might  have  sneered  at  it,  but  to  us  in  that 
land,  and  especially  to  this  happy  Indian 
family,  it  was  one  of  the  great  events  of  their 
lives.  The  missionary  and  his  wife  were  happy 
because  they  saw  these  poor  people  so  happy. 

For  perhaps  three  hours,  Mrs.  Young  had 
been  the  instructor  of  that  Indian  mother  and 
her  daughters,  as  under  her  direction  they  pre- 
pared that  dinner,  and  they  were  very  proud  of 
their  teacher. 

The  dinner  was  pronounced  a  great  success, 
and  after  it  was  over,  and  all  had  had  an 
abundance,  the  Bible  in  the  syllabic  characters, 
was  brought  out  and  read,  when  all  devoutly 
kneeling,  the  missionary  with  a  glad  heart  of- 
fered up  an  earnest  prayer  for  heaven's  bless- 
ing ever  to  abide  upon  that  home. 

After  prayers  I  was  expected  to  leave,  while 
Mrs.  Young  remained  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 
When  she  returned  to  our  mission  home  in 


58  On  the  Indian  Trail 

the  evening,  tired,  but  very  happy  over  her  day's 
work,  she  would  give  me  some  glimpses  into 
the  doings  of  the  afternoon.  Of  course,  the 
first  thing,  was  to  teach  the  women  how,  nicely 
and  carefully,  to  wash  and  put  away  the  dishes ; 
then,  the  house  was  once  more  swept  up,  when 
they  were  ready  for  the  afternoon's  work. 
Sometimes  the  happy  Indian  mother  was  able  to 
bring  out  a  nice  piece  of  dress  cloth,  which  her 
now  kind,  Christian  husband,  had  bought  for 
her  in  exchange  for  his  valuable  furs.  This 
dress  piece  had  to  be  cut  and  fitted  by  Mrs. 
Young.  When  asked  as  to  how  she  wished  to 
have  it  made  she  would  generally  say  : 

"  Please,  Ookemasquao,  cut  it  out  so  that  it 
will  be  like  the  one  you  had  on  in  church,  last 
Sunday." 

So,  as  far  as  possible,  the  dress  was  cut  and 
fitted  in  that  style,  the  sewing  of  it  commenced, 
and  full  instructions  given  so  that  the  owner 
might  go  on  working,  until  she  became  per- 
plexed with  its  intricacies,  when  she  would 
come  to  the  mission  house  for  help,  and  so  on, 
until  the  work  was  completed. 

In  addition  to  thus  helping  in  dressmaking, 
there  were  lessons  to  be  given  in  patching  and 
darning,  and  in  lengthening  out,  or  adding  to, 
the  dresses  of  the  rapidly  growing  Indian  girls. 

Thus,  from  house  to  house  we  went,  and  for 
long  years  after  the  good  results  of  those  visits 


Practical  Work  in  Indian  Homes    59 

remained ;  thus,  was  a  noble  ambition  stirred  in 
those  Indian  women's  lives  to  try  and  keep 
house  like  Ookemasquao ;  and  thus,  they  en- 
deavoured to  let  their  husbands  and  children  see, 
that  no  longer  did  they  wish  to  live  in  the  care- 
less way  of  the  old  pagan  life,  but,  as  now  they 
had  become  Christians  in  their  profession,  so  in 
their  homes,  they  -would  have  the  neatness,  and 
cleanliness,  that  should  belong  to  those  who 
are  thus  called. 


IV 


HOW  THE  GOSPEL  IS  CARRIED:  BY  CANOE  IN 
SUMMER;  BY  DOG-TRAIN  IN  WINTER 

THAT  great  northern  country  is  a  land  of 
innumerable  lakes  and  rivers.  Unfortunately, 
many  of  the  streams  abound  with  rapids,  and 
navigation  on  them,  as  generally  understood,  is 
an  impossibility.  Hence,  the  only  way  of 
traveling  on  them  in  summer,  is  in  the  light 
birch  canoe  or  in  some  other  craft,  so  portable, 
that  it  can  be  carried  or  dragged  across  the 
many  portages  that  are  so  numerous  in  that 
land  of  cataracts  and  falls. 

From  time  immemorial,  the  birch  canoe  has 
been  considered  a  part  of  the  craft  of  the 
Indian.  Centuries  of  its  use  has  enabled  him 
so  to  perfect  it,  that  although  attempts  have 
been  made  by  the  white  man  to  improve  it, 
they  have  not  been  very  successful. 

One  of  our  missionaries,  who  was  one  of  the 
best  canoemen  in  the  country,  was  conceited 
enough  to  imagine,  that  the  beautiful  cedar 
canoe  of  the  white  man  was  superior  to  the 
birch-bark  ones  of  the  natives.  So  certain  was 
he  of  this,  that  at  a  good  deal  of  trouble  and 
expense,  he  had  one  of  the  very  best  models 
60 


How  the  Gospel  is  Carried          6l 

sent  to  him  all  the  way  from  Ontario  to  Nor- 
way House.  On  the  beautiful  Playgreen  lake 
and  other  similar  places,  he  enjoyed  it  amaz- 
ingly ;  but  when  he  started  off  on  his  mission- 
ary touring,  the  Indians,  who  are  the  best 
judges  of  these  things,  urged  him  not  to  at- 
tempt in  that  beautiful,  but  unreliable  boat,  to 
run  the  wild  rapids  of  the  mighty  Nelson  or 
other  great  rivers.  He,  however,  only  laughed 
at  their  fears  and  protestations.  A  number 
of  them  set  off  together  on  a  long  missionary 
journey,  one  of  the  objects  of  which  was,  to  assist 
in  the  building  of  a  new  church.  For  a  time, 
the  erection  of  the  little  sanctuary  in  the  wil- 
derness went  on  uninterruptedly,  much  to  the 
delight  of  the  resident  Christian  Indians,  who 
had  long  wished  for  one  in  which  to  worship 
God. 

The  securing  of  sufficient  food  for  the  build- 
ers, was  one  of  the  duties  that  devolved  upon, 
and  gave  considerable  anxiety  to,  the  mission- 
ary. When  the  supplies  which  had  been 
secured  were  about  exhausted,  and  it  seemed 
as  though  the  work  of  building  would  have  to 
cease  on  account  of  the  lack  of  food,  word  came 
through  some  passing  hunters,  that  they  had 
seen  abundance  of  sturgeon  sporting  at  the  foot 
of  some  great  rapids  of  the  Nelson  River.  As 
they  are  considered  delicious  and  nourishing 
food,  an  expedition  was  at  once  prepared  to  go 


62  On  the  Indian  Trail 

and  capture  as  many  of  them  as  possible.  The 
missionary  himself,  an  energetic,  active  man, 
took  charge  of  the  party,  and  insisted  on  going 
in  his  beautiful  cedar  canoe.  When  they 
reached  the  head  of  the  rapids,  at  the  foot  of 
which  the  sturgeon  were  reported  to  have  been 
seen  in  such  numbers,  there  was  a  brief  rest  ere 
the  run  down  was  attempted.  The  Indians  all 
protested  against  the  missionary's  resolve  to 
run  such  wild  rapids  in  a  canoe  which  they 
were  certain  was  so  unfitted  for  such  a  danger- 
ous trip.  The  missionary,  however,  was  stub- 
born and  unmoved  by  their  entreaties.  When 
they  saw  that  their  words  availed  not,  to  change 
his  resolve,  an  old  experienced  guide  said  : 

"  Well,  then  let  one  of  us  go  with  you,  to  sit 
in  the  stern  of  your  boat  arid  help  you  to  steer, 
and  also,  by  our  weight,  to  keep  the  head  of 
your  canoe  high  up  as  we  run  the  rapids." 

This  kindly  offer  to  risk  and  to  share  the 
dangers,  he  also  refused,  saying,  "  that  he  could 
go  in  his  white  man's  canoe  anywhere  an  Indian 
could  go  in  a  birch-bark."  Their  objection  to 
his  canoe,  was,  that  it  was  not  built  high 
enough  in  front,  and  so  when  he  made  the  last 
wild  rush  in  the  rapids  where  the  pitch  in  the 
waters  was  so  steep,  instead  of  the  boat  rising 
like  a  duck  on  the  mad  billows  at  the  foot,  it 
would  plunge  under  like  a  log  and  disappear. 

Well  would  it  have  been  for  the  wilful  mis- 


How  the  Gospel  is  Carried          63 

sionary  if  he  had  listened  to  the  advice  of  these 
experienced  men  who  knew  what  they  were 
talking  about.  He,  however,  cut  them  short  by 
ordering  them  to  enter  their  canoes  and  go  on, 
and  he  would  soon  follow.  With  regret  they 
left  him  there,  sitting  on  a  rock,  leisurely 
watching  them  as  they  began  the  hazardous 
trip.  With  care  .and  skill,  the  Indians  all  suc- 
ceeded in  successfully  running  those  dangerous 
rapids  which  are  as  wild  and  fierce  as  any  in 
the  St.  Lawrence.  As  quickly  as  possible  they 
went  ashore  at  the  foot,  and,  with  their  hearts 
full  of  foreboding,  clustered  at  a  point  where 
they  could  watch  the  missionary  make  the  run. 

Alas  !  their  fears  were  too  well  grounded. 
Down  the  rushing,  roaring  river,  they  saw  the 
brave,  but  rash  man,  coming.  With  consum- 
mate skill  in  the  upper  rapids,  did  he  manage 
his  beautifully  polished  craft ;  but  when  the 
last  wild  plunge  at  the  foot  was  made,  both 
canoe  and  missionary  suddenly  disappeared.  It 
was  many  days  ere  the  poor  putrid  body  was 
recovered,  far  away  down  the  great  river. 

A  solitary  grave  is  there  on  the  bank,  and  a 
little  tombstone  set  up  by  loving  hands,  re- 
cords the  name  of  this  brave,  but  rash  man. 

For  the  manufacture  of  a  first  class  Indian 
canoe,  the  birch-bark  must  be  taken  from  the 
tree  at  the  right  time  of  the  year  with  the 
greatest  care.  The  framework  must  be  ar- 


64  On  the  Indian  Trail 

ranged  with  a  skill  and  accuracy  that  comes 
only  of  long  practice.  The  fact  is,  the  first- 
class  canoe-makers,  were  about  as  rare  among 
the  tribes,  as  are  first-class  poets  in  civilisation. 
Many  Indians  could  make  canoes ;  but  there 
were  a  few  men  whose  fame  for  their  splendid 
crafts,  were  known  far  and  wide,  and  who  were 
always  able  to  obtain  the  highest  price  for  all 
they  could  make. 

It  is  really  wonderful,  considering  the  cranky 
nature  of  a  canoe  at  its  best,  what  journeys  can 
be  made  in  them.  My  skilled  canoeman  and  I 
used  to  run  wild  rapids,  and  cross  over  storm 
swept  lakes  of  large  dimensions.  We  lived  on 
the  game  we  could  shoot  as  we  hurried  along, 
slept  on  the  rocks  or  sandy  beach  where  night 
overtook  us,  and  were  always  thankful  when 
we  found  the  little  companies  of  Indians  for 
whom  we  were  seeking.  As  they  were  gener- 
ally eager  to  hear  the  truth,  but  little  time  was 
lost  between  the  religious  services.  Long  ser- 
mons and  addresses  were  the  order  of  the  day ; 
and  often  from  early  morn  until  late  at  night, 
there  was  only  the  short  intermissions  for  our 
hasty  meals  of  fish  or  game. 

As  we  journeyed  on  from  place  to  place,  our 
meals  were  cooked  and  eaten  in  the  open  air, 
and  for  days  we  met  no  human  beings.  Our 
bed  was  on  some  balsam  boughs,  if  obtainable; 
if  not,  a  smooth  granite  rock  or  sandy  beach  did 


How  the  Gospel  is  Carried         65 

very  well.  So  healthful  were  we,  and  so  con- 
genial was  the  work  and  its  surroundings,  that 
there  were  no  sleepless  nights,  except  when  some- 
times myriads  of  mosquitoes  assailed  us,  or  a 
fierce  thunderstorm  swept  over  us.  Then  the 
nights  were  not  so  pleasant,  and  we  welcomed 
the  coming  of  the  day,  even  if,  because  of  the 
storm,  it  revealed  a  damp  condition  of  affairs 
among  our  supplies. 

This  was  the  general  plan  of  our  proceed- 
ings :  when  we  reached  one  of  the  little  Indian 
villages  at  a  time  which  had  been,  perhaps, 
arranged  six  months  or  a  year  before.  All  who 
possibly  could  come  in  from  contiguous  fishing 
or  hunting  grounds,  were  there  to  meet  me; 
then,  for  several  days  services  would  be  held, 
after  which  the  Indians  would  return  to  their 
different  hunting  grounds,  while  I  would  again 
launch  my  canoe,  and  with  my  skilled  paddlers, 
push  on  to  some  other  point,  where  would  be 
gathered  another  company  of  Indians  awaiting 
my  arrival  and  longing  to  hear  the  glorious 
Gospel  of  the  Son  of  God. 

Very  precious  was  the  Word  to  those  people 
so  isolated.  The  coming  of  the  missionary  in 
his  canoe  to  preach  to  them,  and  perhaps  teach 
them  how  to  read  for  themselves  the  precious 
Book,  was  one  of  the  few  happy  breaks  during 
the  brief  summer  months  in  their  lonely,  monot- 
onous lives.  They  were  ever  on  the  lookout 

5 


66  On  the  Indian  Trail 

for  my  coming,  and  especially  did  those  who 
had  renounced  their  paganism  and  accepted 
Christianity  give  me  a  hearty  welcome,  even  if 
it  was  expressed  in  their  quiet,  dignified  way. 

The  Indian's  alertness  and  keenness  of  hear- 
ing, as  well  as  of  seeing,  was  something  remark- 
able to  me.  The  following  is  a  good  illustra- 
tion of  it.  One  summer,  when  thus  traveling, 
I  was  on  the  lookout  for  some  friendly  Indians 
whose  camping  place  was  determined  each  sum- 
mer by  the  abundance  of  the  food  supply.  Anx- 
ious to  make  as  much  of  the  time  as  possible,  my 
men  and  I  were  paddling  away  in  our  canoe  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning.  To  hasten  our 
progress,  we  pushed  out  into  the  centre  of  the 
great  river,  down  which  we  were  traveling,  as 
there  the  current  was  much  more  rapid  than 
near  the  shore.  At  that  early  hour,  the  morn- 
ing mists  still  lay  low  and  dense  on  either  side, 
completely  hiding  from  view  every  object  on 
the  shore.  While  thus  pushing  on  between 
those  walls  of  vapoury  mist,  we  were  startled 
by  the  rapid  firing  of  guns.  To  me  this  was  a 
decided  mystery,  but  it  was  at  once  understood 
by  my  experienced  canoemen.  Quickly  turn- 
ing the  head  of  our  canoe  in  the  direction  from 
which  came  the  firing,  they  paddled  through 
the  now  rapidly  disappearing  vapours,  and  there 
on  the-  sjiore  we  descried  a  company  of  friendly 
Indians  on  the  lookout  for  our  coming.  Their 


How  the  Gospel  is  Carried          67 

ears  had  been  of  more  service  than  their  eyes ; 
for  although  they  had  been  unable  to  see  us, 
their  practiced  ears  had  caught  the  sound  of 
our  paddles.  After  greeting  us  most  cordially, 
they  produced  some  smoked  reindeer  tongues 
and  other  native  delicacies  which  they  had 
brought  for  the  missionary.  Some  very  sug- 
gestive and  profitable  religious  services  were 
enjoyed  there  by  the  riverside.  For  the  com- 
fort and  encouragement  of  those  who  had  al- 
ready become  His  children  we  talked  of  the 
loving  kindnesses  and  providential  care  of  our 
Heavenly  Father.  We  also  pleaded  with  those 
who  had  not  yet  decided  to  renounce  the  pagan- 
ism of  their  forefathers,  to  do  so  speedily  and  to 
accept  of  the  religion  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

Thus  the  work  went  on,  and  through  many 
happy  summers,  my  canoe  was  afloat  for  days 
on  many  waters,  while  as  a  glad  messenger,  I 
traveled  through  the  wilderness  beseeching  men 
arid  women  to  be  reconciled  to  God. 

Of  the  dog-traveling  in  that  land  so  much 
has  been  written,  that  but  a  short  account  need 
here  be  given.  Winter  begins  in  those  regions 
in  the  latter  part  of  October  and  continues  with- 
out any  perceptible  break  until  April.  So  im- 
mense, however,  are  the  ice-fields  on  the  great 
lakes,  that  they  do  not  all  disappear  until  a 
month  or  six  weeks  later.  One  winter  I  was 
able  to  make  quite  a  long  journey  with  my  dog- 


68  On  the  Indian  Trail 

trains,  arriving  home  as  late  as  the  eighteenth 
of  May.  At  that  date,  however,  the  snow  had 
all  disappeared  and  the  frost  was  nearly  all  out 
of  the  ground. 

The  cold  is  intense,  the  spirit  thermometer 
indicating  from  thirty  to  sixty  below  zero.  We 
have  seen  the  mercury  frozen  as  solid  as  lead 
for  weeks  together.  For  months  milk  is  frozen 
into  cakes  like  marble.  We  used  to  carry  large 
pieces  of  it  wrapped  up  in  a  newspaper,  and 
when  at  the  camp-fire  we  desired  a  little  in  our 
cup  of  tea,  we  cut  it  off  with  an  axe.  As  will 
be  seen  from  this,  we  had  about  seven  months 
of  bright  cold  winter.  During  all  that  time 
there  was  not  a  thaw,  the  snow  was  never  soft, 
and  there  was  no  dampness  in  the  air  or  under 
foot.  Soft  deer  skin  moccasins  are  very  much 
superior  to  civilised  boots  or  shoes  under  such 
conditions. 

There  are  no  roads  in  that  vast  country. 
The  frost  king  freezes  up  every  lake  and 
stream,  and  hardens  into  adamant  every  muskeg 
and  quaking  bog.  The  snow  covers  every- 
thing with  its  great  mantle  of  beauty,  and 
makes  it  possible  to  travel  on  snow-shoes  or  by 
dog-train  through  vast  regions  absolutely  im- 
passable in  the  summer  months.  Horses  or 
other  large  animals,  are  absolutely  worthless 
for  travel  in  such  regions.  The  snow  is  a  great 
leveller.  It  fills  up  many  a  dangerous  pitfall 


How  the  Gospel  is  Carried          69 

and  puts  such  a  cushion  on  the  logs  and  rocks, 
that  upsets  or  falls  are  only  laughed  at  by  the 
dog-travelers  as  they  merrily  dash  along.  The 
only  drawbacks  to  a  tumble  down  a  steep  de- 
clivity of  some  hundreds  of  feet,  as  once  befell 
the  writer,  were  the  laughter  of  his  comrades, 
and  the  delay  incident  to  digging  him  out  of 
the  snowdrift  afc  the  bottom,  which  was  any- 
where from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  deep.  These 
accidents  and  delays  were  not  frequent ;  and, 
although  there  were  hardships  and  sufferings, 
there  were  many  things  to  instruct  and  interest, 
and  to  break  the  monotony  of  winter  traveling 
in  that  lonely  land. 

In  the  coldest,  brightest,  sunniest  days,  the 
fitful  mirage  played  its  strange  antics  with  dis- 
tant landscapes,  and  at  times  brought  within 
near  vision  places  many  miles  away.  Some- 
times circle  within  circle  appeared  around  the 
sun,  until  as  many  as  four  were  distinctly  visi- 
ble ;  each  circle  at  times  having  within  it  four 
mock  suns — sixteen  mock  suns  visible  at  the 
same  time  was  a  sight  worth  going  a  long  dis- 
tance to  see.  Strange  to  say,  the  Indians 
dreaded  the  sight  of  them,  as  they  declared 
they  were  always  the  forerunners  of  blizzard 
storms ;  and  the  more  vivid  these  sun-dogs,  as 
they  called  them,  the  more  dreadful  would  be 
the  storm. 

But  the  most  fascinating  and  glorious  of  all 


70  On  the  Indian  Trail 

the  celestial  phenomena  of  those  glorious 
regions,  are  the  Northern  Lights — the  Aurora 
Borealis.  Confined  to  no  particular  months  of 
the  year,  we  have  seen  them  flashing  and  quiver 
ing  through  the  few  hours  of  the  short  nights 
following  the  hottest  days  in  July  or  August, 
as  well  as  in  the  long  cold  nights  of  the  winter 
months.  They  would  sometimes  linger  on  all 
night  in  their  weird  beauty,  until  lost  in  the 
splendour  of  the  coming  day.  A  description  of 
them  has  often  been  attempted  by  writers  of 
northern  scenes,  and  I  have  to  confess,  that  I 
have  been  rash  enough  to  try  it  elsewhere ;  but 
their  full  glories  are  still  unwritten  and  perhaps 
ever  will  be.  They  appear  to  belong  to  the 
spiritual  rather  than  to  the  earthly ;  and  there 
are  times  when  they  so  dazzle  and  overwhelm, 
that  it  does  seem  as  though  only  the  language 
of  spirits  is  adequate  to  the  task  of  describing 
them.  Then  they  are  so  changeable.  Never 
have  I  seen  two  great  exhibitions  of  them  alike. 
At  first  they  are  of  purest  white ;  but  when  the 
scintillations  begin,  they  take  on  every  color  of 
the  rainbow.  Sometimes  they  appear  in  great 
brilliant  arcs,  as  in  the  illustration.  At  other 
times  they  are  simply  ribbons  of  wavy  undu- 
lations that  seem  to  soothe,  as  well  as  charm, 
with  their  rhythmic  motions  and  ever  changing 
hues.  At  still  other  times  they  are  mighty 
armies  of  disciplined  warriors  going  out  to  con- 


a 

o 

1C 


How  the  Gospel  is  Carried          71 

flict.  Then,  when  they  seem  wearied  with  their 
warlike  deeds,  they  appear  to  marshal  all  their 
forces ;  and,  fairly  filling  the  northern  heavens, 
to  rush  on,  and  up,  until  the  very  zenith  is 
reached,  where  they  form  a  corona  of  such  daz- 
zling splendour,  that  it  really  seems  as  though 
the  longing  prayer  of  the  church  militant  was 
being  fulfilled ;  and,  that  universal  triumph 
had  come  to  the  world's  Redeemer  here,  and 
now  the  angelic  and  redeemed  hosts  of  heaven 
and  earth  are  bringing  forth  the  Royal  Diadem 
to  "  crown  Him  Lord  of  all." 

The  dogs  which  we  use  in  the  dog- trains,  are 
generally  of  any  breed  that  has  in  it  size,  en- 
durance, and  sagacity.  The  Esquimaux  breed 
of  dogs  formerly  predominated;  but  in  later 
years  there  has  been  such  an  admixture  of  other 
varieties,  that  a  pure  Esquimaux  dog  is  now  a 
rarity  except  at  some  of  the  most  northern 
posts  and  missions.  My  worthy  predecessor 
among  the  Crees,  left  me  a  train  of  mongrels, 
that  were  good  enough  for  hauling  wood  and 
fish  for  the  mission ;  and  also  for  the  short 
trips  to  the  places  near  home  where  I  held 
weekly  services;  but  when  I  attempted  to  make 
the  long  journeys  of  hundreds  of  miles  to  the 
remote  parts  of  my  great  mission  field,  which 
was  larger  than  all  England  or  the  state  of 
New  York,  they  proved  miserable  failures. 
Traveling  with  such  dogs,  was  like  the  experi- 


72  On  the  Indian  Trail 

ence  of  the  man  who,  in  the  olden  times,  paid 
first-class  fare  to  ride  in  a  packet  boat  on  the 
Erie  canal,  from  New  York  to  Buffalo,  and  then 
drove  a  horse  on  the  towpath  all  the  way.  So, 
after  nearly  killing  myself  traveling  with  weak 
or  lazy  dogs,  having  to  walk  or  run  on  snow- 
shoes  all  the  time  on  account  of  their  inability 
to  draw  me,  I  resolved,  if  possible,  to  become 
the  owner  of  better  ones.  I  appealed  to  some 
good  friends  in  civilisation  to  aid  me,  and  the 
result  was,  that  I  was  soon  supplied  with  some 
of  the  finest  dogs  that  could  be  obtained. 
Among  them,  Jack  and  Cuffy,  the  gifts  of  Sena- 
tor Sanford  of  Hamilton,  were  never  equalled. 
Through  the  kindness  of  James  Ferrier,  Esq., 
of  Montreal,  five  beautiful  St.  Bernards  were 
obtained  from  Mrs.  Andrew  Allan.  Dr.  Mark 
of  Ottawa,  and  other  friends  also  remembered 
me,  with  the  result,  that  soon  I  had  some  of  the 
finest  dog-trains  in  the  land.  These  civilised 
dogs  had  all  the  good  qualities  of  the  Esqui- 
maux without  any  of  their  thievish  tricks. 
They  proved  themselves  equal  in  their  endur- 
ance and  sagacity;  and  only  lacked  in  that 
their  feet  seemed  more  easily  to  become  injured 
and  sore. 

The  dog-sleds  are  ten  feet  long  and  eighteen 
inches  wide.  They  are  used  to  carry  our  bed- 
ding and  supplies,  as  often  for  days  and  nights 
together  we  are  entirely  dependent  on  our  loads 


How  the  Gospel  is  Carried          73 

for  food  and  lodgings.  These  miscellaneous 
loads  are  well  packed  up  in  the  great  deer  skin 
wrappers  and  so  securely  tied  to  the  sleds,  that 
no  matter  how  many  may  be  the  upsets,  the 
loads  never  become  disarranged.  My  own  sled, 
which  was  called  a  "  cariole,"  was  one  of  the 
usual  oak  sleds  with  parchment  sides  and  a  firm 
back  attached.  -  Sometimes  these  carioles  were 
handsomely  painted  and  were  very  comfortable 
vehicles  in  which  to  ride.  When  well  wrapped 
up  in  fur  robes,  with  plenty  of  fat  meat  to  eat, 
splendid  dogs  to  draw  you,  and  loving  loyal 
Indian  attendants  with  you,  dog-traveling  was 
not  without  its  pleasures  and  enjoyments ;  es- 
pecially if  the  sun  was  bright,  the  icy  pavement 
under  you  free  from  drifting  snows,  and  the 
temperature  not  colder  than  forty  degrees  be- 
low zero.  It  was  a  different  thing,  however, 
when  blizzards  howled  around  you  and  the  air 
was  so  full  of  the  fine  cutting  particles  of  icy 
snow,  that  it  was  dangerous  to  expose  any  part 
of  the  face  to  their  pitiless  attacks.  Then  it 
was,  that  the  marvelous  skill  of  the  experienced 
Indian-guide  was  seen,  and  we  were  led  on 
amidst  such  miserable  surroundings  with  an 
accuracy  and  speed  that  seemed  almost  in- 
credible. 

The  camp,  when  the  day's  travel  was  ended — 
especially  if  blizzards  had  assailed  us — was  a 
welcomed  spot,  even  if  it  was  only  a  hole  dug 


74  On  the  Indian  Trail 

out  in  the  snow  on  the  sheltered  side  on  some 
dense  spruce  or  balsam  grove.  At  times  we 
were  able  to  find  places  in  which  thus  to  camp 
that  were  quite  picturesque.  When  the  halt 
for  the  night  was  called  by  the  guide,  the  first 
thing  done  was  to  unharness  our  faithful  dogs. 
Our  snow-shoes  were  improvised  as  shovels,  and 
from  the  spot  selected  as  our  resting  place,  the 
snow  was  quickly  piled  up  in  a  great  bank  at 
our  rear ;  and,  sometimes,  if  the  night  threat- 
ened to  be  unusually  severe,  on  each  side  of  us. 
Then  the  great  roaring  fire  of  dry  wood,  at 
which  we  cooked  our  suppers,  thawed  out  the 
fish  for  our  dogs,  and  warmed  our  half  frozen 
bodies,  was  very  welcome.  When  supper  was 
eaten,  and  prayers,  so  sweet  and  profitable  to 
us  all,  were  over,  how  delightful  to  sit  down 
on  our  robes  and  spend  some  hours  in  pleasant 
chat  ere  my  bed  was  made  and  I  was  cosily  and 
thoroughly  tucked  in  by  my  faithful  comrades. 
It  was  hard  at  first  to  sleep  with  the  head  com- 
pletely covered ;  there  was  such  a  sense  of 
smothering,  that  I  often  ran  the  risk  of  the 
freezing  rather  than  the  smothering.  One 
night,  perhaps  because  of  this  suffocating  sen- 
sation, I  unconsciously  uncovered  my  head. 
After  a  time  I  awoke  suddenly  to  conscious- 
ness, to  find  that  I  was  trying  to  pull  off  my 
now  frozen  nose  which  I  thought  was  the  end 
of  an  axe  handle. 


How  the  Gospel  is  Carried          75 

We  fed  our  dogs  on  fish,  giving  them  only 
one  meal  a  day,  and  that  one,  when  the  day's 
work  was  done.  To  feed  them  in  the  morning, 
caused  them  to  be  sluggish  and  stupid  for  some 
time  thereafter ;  and  the  same  happened  if  they 
were  fed  at  noon.  Long  experience  has  shown, 
that  the  dogs  thrive  the  best,  and  are  able  to  do 
the  most  work,  oji  one  good  meal  given  to  them 
before  their  long  night's  rest.  The  dog-shoes, 
which  are  so  essential  to  their  comfort  and  re- 
covery when  a  foot  is  frozen  or  badly  injured, 
are  much  prized  by  them.  These  shoes  are 
made  out  of  a  warm  English  cloth  called  duffle, 
and  are  in  shape  like  a  large  mit  without  a 
thumb.  An  old  dog  that  has  once  become  ac- 
customed to  dog  shoes,  is  ever  hankering  after 
them  when  on  a  long  cold  trip.  Sometimes, 
they  will  come  and  most  comically  hold  up  their 
feet  to  be  shod.  At  other  times,  they  have  been 
known  to  come  into  camp  and  there  lie  down 
on  their  backs,  and,  holding  up  their  four  feet, 
plead  most  ludicrously  and  importunately  for 
these  warm  woolen  shoes.  Some  of  them  get 
very  cunning  at  their  work,  and  shirk  from 
doing  their  share  of  the  pulling ;  and  yet,  to 
avoid  discovery,  will  appear  to  be  doing  more 
work  than  any  other  dog  in  the  train. 

But  this  dog  traveling  was  hard  work  at  best; 
and  dogs,  as  well  as  their  master,  were  always 
glad  when  the  long  journeys  were  ended  and  a 


76  On  the  Indian  Trail 

welcome  rest  for  a  little  while  could  be  taken, 
to  heal  up  the  wounds  and  frost  bites,  and 
gather  strength  for  the  next  trip. 

Good  was  accomplished,  and  that  was  the 
great  reward  for  all  the  risks  run  and  sufferings 
endured.  Many  for  whom  Christ  died,  would 
never  up  to  the  present  hour,  have  heard  the 
Gospel  or  have  seen  the  Book,  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  missionary  carrying  it  to  them  by  the 
canoe  in  summer,  and  the  dog-train  in  winter. 
Thank  God,  many  of  them  have  heard  and 
have  accepted  gladly  the  great  salvation  thus 
brought  to  them.  With  its  reception  into  their 
hearts  and  lives,  marvelous  have  been  the 
transformations.  Where  the  devil-dance,  and 
ghost-dance,  and  other  abominations,  performed 
to  the  accompaniment  of  the  conjurer's  rattle 
or  the  monotonous  drumming  of  the  medicine 
man,  once  prevailed  and  held  the  people  in  a 
degrading  superstition,  the  house  of  prayer 
has  now  been  erected,  and  the  wilderness  has 
become  vocal  with  the  sweet  songs  of  Zion. 
Lives  once  impure  and  sinful  have  been  trans- 
formed by  the  Gospel's  power,  and  a  civilisa- 
tion real  and  abiding,  has  come  in  to  bless  and 
to  add  to  their  comfort  for  this  life,  while  they 
dwell  in  a  sweet  and  blessed  assurance  of  life 
eternal  in  the  world  to  come. 


GOD  ON  THE  ROCK,  OR  HOW  THE  INDIANS 
ARE  TAUGHT  TO  READ  THE  BOOK 

THE  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  the 
American  Bible  Society,  and  other  kindred  in- 
stitutions that  print  and  scatter  the  Word  of 
God,  have  been,  and  are,  of  incalculable  benefit 
to  the  missionaries. 

Long  ago  the  Psalmist  said :  "  The  entrance 
of  thy  words  giveth  light ;  "  and  blessedly  and 
gloriously  is  this  truth  being  realised. 

No  matter  where  a  missionary  goes,  he  feels 
much  hampered  if  he  has  not  the  Book  in  the 
language  of  the  people.  It  is  a  matter  of 
thankfulness,  that  in  these  later  years — thanks 
to  these  glorious  Bible  Societies — there  is  hardly 
a  land  or  nation  where  a  missionary  can  go,  but 
he  will  find  the  Bible  printed  in  the  language 
or  languages  of  that  nation,  and  offered  to  the 
people  at  rates  so  reasonable,  that  the  poorest 
of  the  poor  may  have  it  if  they  will.  But  it 
was  not  always  so,  and  we  need  not  go  back  to 
Wickliffe  or  Tyndal  to  read  of  difficulties  in 
the  way  of  presenting  to  the  common  people 
the  Word  of  God  in  their  own  tongue.  All  the 
great  missionary  societies  in  their  earlier  days 
77 


78  On  the  Indian  Trail 

had  their  Careys,  and  Morrisons,  and  Duffs,  who 
struggled  on,  and  persevered  against  oppositions 
and  difficulties  that  to  ordinary  mortals  would 
have  been  insurmountable,  and  would  have  filled 
them  with  despair. 

The  difficulties  that  John  Eliot  had  to  over- 
come ere  he  was  able  to  give  the  Bible  to  the 
Indians  of  New  England,  were  numerous  and 
exasperating ;  but  his  indomitable  will  carried 
him  through  to  ultimate  success.  Sad  indeed 
is  it  to  think,  that  there  is  not  a  man,  woman 
or  child  of  them  left  to  read  his  Bible.  All  the 
tribes  for  whom,  at  such  a  cost  of  tears  and  dif- 
ficulties, he  translated  the  Book,  are  gone.  The 
greed  for  land  and  the  cruelties  of  the  early 
settlers,  were  too  much  for  the  poor  Indian. 
From  his  different  reservations  where  Eliot, 
Brainard,  Mayhews,  and  other  devoted  friends 
tried  to  save  him,  he  was  driven  back,  back, 
with  such  destruction  and  loss  at  each  move, 
that  ultimately  he  was  simply  wiped  out.  And 
so  to-day,  in  the  library  of  Harvard  Univer- 
sity and  in  a  very  few  other  places,  there  are  to 
be  found  copies  of  Eliot's  Bible  ;  sealed  books, 
which  no  man  can  read;  a  sad  evidence  of 
"  Man's  inhumanity  to  man." 

One  of  the  most  signal  triumphs  in  giving 
the  Bible  to  a  people  in  their  own  language, 
and  printed  in  a  way  so  simple  as  to  be  very 
easily  acquired  by  them,  is  that  of  the  transla- 


God  on  the  Rock  79 

tion  and  printing  of  the  Book  in  the  syllabic 
characters.  These  syllabic  characters  were  in- 
vented by  the  Rev.  James  Evans,  one  of  the 
early  Methodist  missionaries  to  the  scattered 
tribes  of  Indians  in  what  were  then  known  as 
the  Hudson  Bay  Territories.  For  some  years 
Mr.  Evans  had  been  employed  as  a  missionary 
among  the  Indians  who  resided  on  different 
reservations  in  the  Province  of  Ontario,  then 
known  as  Upper  Canada.  At  the  request  of 
the  parent  Wesleyan  Missionary  Society,  and 
at  the  solicitation  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Fur-trad- 
ing Company,  Mr.  Evans,  accompanied  by  some 
devoted  brother  missionaries,  went  into  those 
remote  northern  regions  to  begin  missionary 
operations.  Mr.  Evans  and  some  of  his  com- 
panions traveled  all  the  way  from  Montreal  to 
Norway  House,  on  the  Nelson  River,  in  a  birch 
bark  canoe.  A  look  at  the  map  will  give  some 
idea  of  the  length  and  hardships  of  such  a 
journey  in  those  days.  But  they  succeeded  in 
accomplishing  it ;  and  with  glad  hearts  began 
their  blessed  work  of  the  evangelisation  of  the 
natives. 

Missionary  methods  must  necessarily  differ 
in  different  lands.  The  missionary  to  succeed 
must  be  a  man  who  can  adopt  himself  to  his 
surroundings ;  and  he  must  be  quick  to  see 
where  success  can  be  most  easily  attained. 
Here  was  a  people  who  were  fishermen  and 


80         '  .     On  the  Indian  Trail 

hunters,  living  far  north  of  the  agricultural 
regions.  As  hunters,  they  were  ever  on  the  go, 
so  that  it  was  almost  an  impossibility  to  keep 
them  long  enough  in  one  place  to  teach  them 
to  read  in  the  ordinary  way.  Over  these  diffi- 

ALPHABET. 


(a)  SYLLABICS. 


\/  pa  /\  pS  >  p5  <  pa 

(Jta  p|  tS  ^to  £  fa 

^  cha  p    ch5  J  Ch5  (^   cha 

q  ka  p    k§  ^  ko  ^    ka 

-^)  na  (j  nS  ^Q  n5  Q_  na 

^|  ma  p    mS  J  mo  |_  ma 

V^  sa  jj    s§  ^  go  ^  Sa 

*^  ya    ^  y§    ^j  75    l^  ya 

*  a,  as  in  far. 

culties  Mr.  Evans  pondered  and  worked,  and, 
after  any  amount  of  experimenting  and  failure, 
succeeded  in  inventing  and  perfecting  what  is 
known  as  the  syllabic  characters. 


God  on  the  Rock  81 

These  very  simple  characters  each  represent 
a  syllable,  so  all  the  difficulties  of  learning  to 
spell  are  done  away  with.  In  prosecuting  his 
work,  Mr.  Evans  had  to  labor  under  many  dis- 
advantages. Living  in  a  land  so  remote  from 
civilisation,  he  had  but  little  material  on  which 
to  experiment,  and  but  few  facilities  to  aid  him. 
From  the  fur-traders  he  begged  a  few  sheets  of 
the  lead  that  lines  the  interior  of  tea  chests. 
This  he  melted  into  suitable  pieces,  out  of  which 
he  carved  his  first  type.  For  paper  he  was 
obliged  at  first  to  use  birch  bark.  His  ink  was 
manufactured  out  of  the  soot  from  his  chimney 
and  sturgeon  oil.  Yet  with  these  rude  appli- 
ances he  succeeded  in  being  able  to  print  por- 
tions of  the  Scriptures  and  some  hymns  in  the 
language  of  the  Cree  Indians.  When  the  story 
of  his  marvelous  invention  reached  England, 
generous  friends  came  to  his  assistance.  From 
some  of  his  types,  as  models,  a  generous  supply 
was  cast ;  these,  with  a  good  hand  printing  press 
and  all  necessary  supplies  of  paper,  ink,  and 
other  essentials,  were  shipped  to  him  by  the 
Hudson  Bay  Co.,  to  Norway  House.  For  years 
the  work  of  printing  portions  of  the  Word  of 
God  was  there  prosecuted,  until  at  length  the 
British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  took  up  the 
work,  and  now,  all  the  Bibles  the  people  re- 
quire are  most  cheerfully  furnished  them  by 
that  most  generous  and  glorious  society. 
6 


82  On  the  Indian  Trail 

The  love  of  the  Christian  Indians  for  their 
Bible  is  very  gratifying.  So  great  a  comfort 
and  solace  is  it  to  them  in  their  solitary  wig- 
wams and  lonely  hunting-camps,  that  nothing 
will  induce  them  to  leave  it  out  of  their  pack. 
The  trail  may  be  rough  and  the  journey  of 
many  days  duration  ;  food  may  have  to  be  car- 
ried on  their  backs  for  days  together  so  that 
every  pound  of  weight  has  to  be  determined 
upon ;  days  of  hunger  must  be  faced  ere  the 
journey  ends  and  abundance  of  game  is 
reached,  yet  the  Great  Book  is  ever  carried  as 
the  most  prized  of  all  their  possessions.  Such 
a  thing  as  a  Christian  Indian  throwing  out  his 
Bible,  when  in  an  emergency  his  load  had  to  be 
lightened,  I  have  never  known.  Their  work  as 
hunters  gives  them  a  good  deal  of  leisure  time, 
which  enables  them  to  be  diligent  students  of 
the  Book.  When  in  the  beginning  of  the 
winter,  they  go  to  the  distant  hunting  grounds, 
the  hunting  lodge  is  erected,  arid  the  traps  and 
snares  and  other  appliances  for  capturing  the 
game  are  all  arranged.  Then,  especially  in  the 
capture  of  some  kinds  of  game,  they  have  to 
allow  some  days  to  pass  ere  they  visit  the  traps. 
This  is  to  allow  all  evidences  of  their  presence 
to  disappear,  as  some  of  the  most  valuable  fur- 
bearing  animals  have  a  wonderful  power  of 
detecting  the  presence  of  man,  and  will  not  ap- 
proach either  his  traps  or  trail,  until  some  con- 


God  on  the  Rock  83 

siderable  time  after  the  hunter  had  finished  his 
work  and  retired.  During  these  long  waitings 
in  their  wigwams,  or  hunting  lodges,  the  In- 
dians have  not  much  with  which  to  interest 
themselves ;  the  result  is,  the  Bible  has  come 
to  them  as  a  wonderful  benediction.  Its  start- 
ling incidents  and  stories,  become  more  prized 
than  the  legends  and  myths  that  have  come 
down  to  them  from  their  forefathers,  and  have 
been  repeated  over  and  over  in  their  hearing  by 
the  old  story-tellers  of  the  tribe.  Then,  when 
the  revelation  of  God's  love  in  the  gift  of  His 
Son  has  been  proclaimed  to,  and  received  by 
them — and  here  in  this  Book  they  can  read  it 
for  themselves — they  are  filled  with  grateful 
and  adoring  love,  and  the  Book  is  indeed  most 
precious. 

As  I  journeyed  among  these  wonderful  peo- 
ple, I  carried  as  part  of  my  outfit,  a  number  of 
these  syllabic  Bibles,  and  no  gift  was  more 
acceptable  to  those  who  had  but  lately  re- 
nounced their  paganism  and  given  their  hearts 
to  God.  In  some  way  or  other  they  had 
acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  syllables,  so  that 
the  acquisition  of  a  Bible  that  they  could  call 
their  own,  was  a  treasure  most  prized  and 
used.  Amongst  those,  who  until  my  visit  had 
never  seen  a  Bible  or  heard  a  missionary,  there 
were  conflicting  ideas  regarding  the  Book. 
Some,  at  first,  were  afraid  of  it.  It  was  "  great 


84  On  the  Indian  Trail 

medicine,"  and  only  for  the  white  man.  One 
old  conjurer  who  boasted  of  his  supernatural 
powers  and  of  the  wonderful  things  he  could  do 
by  the  aid  of  his  "  medicines,"  failing  signally 
when  I  challenged  him  to  show  his  power,  de- 
clared, that  it  was  because  of  the  Book  which  I 
carried  in  my  pocket.  Then,  I  permitted  an 
Indian  to  take  the  Book  some  distance  away ; 
and  when  he  still  failed,  he  protested  that  it 
was  because  I  had  so  much  of  it  in  my  head  or 
heart.  Of  course  this  feeling  of  fear  for  the 
Book  quickly  left  them  as  they  became  ac- 
quainted with  it.  When  Christianity  is  ac- 
cepted, there  comes  a  great  love  for  the  pre- 
cious volume  that  has  in  it  so  much  informa- 
tion of  things  about  which  they  are  in  such 
ignorance,  and  that  reveals  the  love  of  the 
Great  Spirit  for  His  Indian  children. 

The  missionaries  employed  simple  and  primi- 
tive ways  to  teach  the  syllabic  characters  to 
those  who  knew  them  not,  but  who  were 
anxious  to  learn.  Sometimes  with  a  lead 
pencil  on  a  piece  of  board  or  birch  bark,  the 
characters  were  drawn  and  slowly  and  care- 
fully gone  over,  time  and  time  again,  until  they 
were  completely  mastered.  When  pencils  gave 
out,  the  end  of  a  burnt  stick,  or  a  piece  of  coal 
from  the  fire,  had  to  serve  as  a  substitute. 

Our  illustration  will  show  one  of  my  methods 
used  at  Burutwood  River  far  up  in  the  Nelson 


God  on  the  Rock  85 

River  country.  I  had  the  honor  of  being  the 
first  missionary  who  ever  reached  the  Indians 
of  that  section  and  preached  to  them  the 
Gospel.  They  are  a  fine  company  of  Indians, 
and  I  found,  that  with  the  few  exceptions  of 
some  old  conjurers  and  medicine  men  and 
polygamists,  the  people  were  not  only  glad  to 
see  me,  but  anxious  to  hear  and  accept  the 
Gospel  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  I  visited  them 
twice  a  year  and  began  the  work ;  but  to  my 
beloved  first  colleague,  the  Rev.  John  Semmens, 
was  given  the  work  of  establishing  the  mission. 
On  my  visits,  which  as  usual  were  made  with 
my  dogs  in  winter  and  by  canoe  in  summer,  I 
had  to  gather  the  Indians  for  religious  services 
as  best  I  could.  The  large  kitchen  of  the 
Hudson  Bay  Company's  trading  post  was  put 
at  my  disposal  by  the  officer  in  charge,  who 
was  ever  kindly  disposed  toward  the  good 
work.  In  this,  as  well  as  in  the  poor  wigwams 
of  the  natives,  we  met,  and  sang,  and  prayed, 
and  explained  to  them  as  well  as  possible  the 
plan  of  salvation — God's  great  love  toward 
them. 

In  the  short  brilliant  summer  the  work  was 
very  much  more  pleasant.  Then,  under  the 
beautiful  trees,  or  where  the  great  rocks  rose 
up  around  us  and  cast  their  welcome  shadows, 
we  could  gather  the  people  and  talk  of  the 
loving  Heavenly  Father;  not  only  of  His 


86  On  the  Indian  Trail 

creative  power,  but  of  His  redeeming  love  in 
the  gift  of  His  beloved  Son. 

In  my  missionary  experiences  I  have  found, 
that  the  majority  of  men  are  sick  of  sin.  Down 
in  the  human  heart  there  is  a  longing  for  some- 
thing which  is  only  really  satisfied  by  the  ac- 
ceptance of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  true 
that  these  inner  feelings  may  be  long  hidden 
from  outer  vision,  or  there  may  be  an  endeavour 
to  satisfy  their  cravings  by  the  vigourous  exer- 
cise of  all  the  religious  ceremonies  that  have 
been  revealed  to  them  in  their  idolatrous  or 
pagan  surroundings;  but  when  they  can  be  in- 
induced  to  speak  out  and  unburden  their  very 
souls,  their  bitter  wailing  cry  is  one  of  dissatis- 
faction and  unrest.  Happy  is  the  missionary 
who  can  so  win  the  confidence  of  a  people  thus 
dissatisfied,  that  they  will  reveal  to  him  their 
heart's  burdens  and  longings.  His  victory  is 
more  than  half  assured.  Christ  in  His  fulness, 
lovingly  presented  to  such,  and  accepted  by 
them,  is  soon  in  their  hearts  a  satisfying  portion. 

The  missionary  ever  finds  among  all  classes 
of  pagan  people  that  the  Book  is  always  con- 
sidered a  mysterious  and  wonderful  volume. 
Its  marvelous  incidents  ever  attract.  They 
never  tire  of  the  services  where  it  has  a  prom- 
inent place.  Sermons,  even  though  hours  in 
duration,  if  full  of  its  truths,  will  be  attentively 
listened  to. 


God  on  the  Rock  87 

One  day  at  one  of  these  places  where  I  was 
holding  some  extended  services,  I  said  to  the 
friendly  Indians  who  were  around  me :  .  . 
"  Would  you  not  like  to  read  this  Book  for 
yourselves  ?  "  A  chorus  of  hearty  affirmative 
answers,  was  the  quick  response.  It  did  not 
take  us  long  to  organise  our  school,  for  it  was  in- 
deed a  primitive  affair.  I  was  fortunate  in  hav- 
ing a  goodly  number  of  syllabic  Bibles,  which, 
at  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  we  had  brought  with 
us  in  our  canoe.  We  had  carried  them  across 
many  a  portage  and  had  guarded  them  from  in- 
jury in  many  a  storm.  Not  one  person  in  that 
audience,  except  my  boatmen,  knew  a  letter  or 
syllabic  character.  We  had  no  primary  books, 
which  are  considered  so  essential  in  organising 
a  school  that  has  to  begin  at  first  principles; 
we  had  not  even  a  slate,  pencil,  paper,  or  black- 
board. However,  "  necessity  is  the  mother  of 
invention,"  and  it  was  so  here. 

Near  at  hand  was  a  huge  rock  that  towered 
up  like  a  house,  one  side  of  it  being  as  smooth 
as  a  wall.  This  constituted  an  admirable  sub- 
stitute for  a  blackboard.  Burnt  sticks  from  the 
camp-fire,  where  our  fish  and  bear's  meat  had 
been  cooked,  were  used  as  substitutes  for 
chalk.  (Our  smaller  illustration  shows  thirty- 
six  syllabic  characters  with  their  names.) 

After  a  few  words  of  explanation  the  work  of 
memorising  the  characters  began. 


88  On  the  Indian  Trail 

A,  E,  OO,  AH.  It  was  just  like  a  lot  of 
little  children  in  a  primary  school  beginning 
with  A,  B,  C.  Over,  and  over  again,  we  re- 
peated them,  one  after  the  other,  until  my 
mixed  audience  became  familiarised  with  the 
sounds.  Thus  we  studied  them  for  hours.  At 
first  the  interest  in  the  work  was  very  great, 
and  from  the  old  men  of  eighty,  to  the  boys  and 
girls  of  six  or  eight,  the  best  of  attention  was 
paid.  They  seemed  to  vie  with  one  another  in 
their  efforts  to  see  which  could  master  them 
most  quickly. 

After  a  time  the  interest  flagged  consider- 
ably, especially  among  the  older  men,  as  to 
them,  these  characters  alone,  were  as  yet,  un- 
meaning sounds.  Some  of  them  got  up  and  lit 
their  pipes,  and  moving  around,  divided  their 
time  between  the  lesson  and  the  smoking.  Of 
course  I  had  to  let  them  smoke.  I  might  have 
found  it  a  difficult  matter  to  have  stopped  them 
if  I  had  been  so  foolish  as  to  have  tried.  So  I 
told  them  some  pleasant  stories,  as  we  toiled 
on  at  our  lesson.  It  was  not  many  hours  before 
a  number  of  my  undisciplined  pupils  had  a 
fairly  good  idea  of  the  names  of  the  characters. 
Knowing  that  I  could  arouse  the  interest  of  the 
most  apathetic  among  them  when  I  began  to 
combine  the  characters  into  words,  I  asked  for 
their  earnest  attention  while  I  proceeded  in  my 
work. 


God  on  the  Rock  89 

I  marked  out  some  simple  words  such  as: 
<  <  (pa-pa,)  l_  L  (ma-ma,)  Off  (Oo-me 
me, — English;  pigeon.)  I  showed  them  how 
thus  to  combine  these  signs  into  words.  This 
very  much  interested  them ;  but  the  climax 
came,  when  with  the  burnt  stick  I  marked 
L  O  D  (Maneto, — English ;  God,  or  the  Great 
Spirit.)  Great  indeed  was  the  excitement 
among  them.  They  could  hardly  believe  their 
own  eyes,  that  before  them  was  Maneto,  the 
Great  Spirit.  He  whom  they  had  heard  in  the 
thunder  and  the  storm,  whose  power  they  had 
seen  in  the  lightning  flash,  about  whom,  with 
reverence  and  awe,  they  had  talked  in  their 
wigwams,  and  at  their  camp-fires — "  Maneto  !  " 
Here,  made  by  a  burnt  stick  on  a  rock,  visible 
to  their  eyes,  was  that  name :  GOD  ON  THE 
ROCK  !  It  was  indeed  a  revelation.  Something 
that  filled,  and  thrilled  them,  as  I  have  never 
before  or  since  seen  Indians  thrilled. 

For  a  time  I  could  only  keep  quiet  and  look 
on,  and  rejoice  as  I  studied  them.  Some  of 
them  in  their  amazement  were  doubtful  of  their 
own  senses.  They  acted  as  though  they  could 
not  believe  their  own  eyes;  so  they  appealed 
to  those  nearest  to  them,  and  said  : 

"  Is  it  MANETO  to  you  ?  " 

Others  were  noticed  rubbing  their  eyes,  as 
though  they  feared  that  by  some  witchery  bad 
medicine  had  been  thrown  in  them,  and,  in 


90  On  the  Indian  Trail 

their  Indian  phraseology,  they  were  "seeing 
double." 

There  was  no  more  inattention.  Every  pipe 
went  out,  and  every  eye  followed  me,  as  in 
these  syllables  I  wrote  on  the  rock,  GOD  is 
LOVE.  After  talking  about  this  a  little,  I  then 
wrote,  GOD  LOVES  You.  This  we  followed 
with  other  short  sentences  full  of  blessed  Gos- 
pel truths.  Thus  passed  some  hours  in  this  de- 
lightful way,  and  before  they  were  ended,  num- 
bers of  my  pupils  had  become  quite  familiarised 
with  the  formation  of  words  out  of  these 
characters. 

Then  we  opened  our  bundle  of  Bibles,  and, 
passing  them  around  as  far  as  they  would  go,  I 
had  them  all  turn  to  the  first  verse  of  the  first 
chapter  of  Genesis.  After  some  explanation  of 
a  few  additional  signs  which  they  there  saw 
upon  the  printed  page,  and  which  give  some 
variation  to  the  sound  of  the  syllabic  character 
to  which  they  are  attached,  we  began  the  study 
of  the  verse.  Of  course  our  progress  at  first 
was  slow.  It  could  not  be  otherwise  under 
such  circumstances.  But  we  patiently  per- 
severed, and  it  was  not  very  long  ere  they  were 
able  to  read  in  their  own  language :  "  MA- 

WACHE    NlSTUM     KAESAMANETO     KEOOSETOU 

KESIK  MENA  ASKEE,  (In  the  beginning  God 
created  the  heaven  and  the  earth.") 

When  they  had  acquired  the  ability  to  read 


God  on  the  Rock  91 

this  verse  for  themselves,  and  had  grasped  a  lit- 
tle of  its  meaning,  there  was  another  outburst 
of  delight.  That  first  verse  of  Genesis  is  very 
suggestive  and  full  of  meaning  to  any  one,  no 
matter  how  learned,  who  strives  to  investigate 
it.  It  is  in  itself  the  first  chapter  of  God's 
revelation  of  Himself  to  man,  and  has  long  oc- 
cupied the  attention  and  study  of  the  most 
godly  and  profound.  Here,  for  the  first  time, 
it  was  being  read  by  a  company  of  poor  Indians 
just  emerging  from  paganism.  But  they  were 
sharp  and  keen,  and  able  to  grasp  a  new  truth ; 
and  so  when  the  verse  first  opened  before  them 
with  its  wondrous  meaning,  great  was  their  de- 
light and  amazement. 

"  Now  we  know  all  about  it! "  some  of  them 
shouted.  "  The  Kaesa-Maneto,  (the  great  God,) 
made  all  these  things,  the  heaven  and  the 
earth." 

Others  said : 

"Our  fathers  talked  about  it  in  their  wig- 
wams, and  wondered  how  all  these  things  came 
as  they  are ;  but  they  had  to  confess  that  they 
were  in  darkness,  and  knew  nothing.  But  now 
we  know  it !  We  know  it !  " 

Over  and  over  again  they  read  the  verse 
until  they  had  thoroughly  committed  it  to 
memory.  And  in  after  days,  at  many  a  camp- 
fire  and  in  many  a  hunting  lodge,  it  was  re- 
peated to  others  who  had  not  heard  it,  but  who, 


92  On  the  Indian  Trail 

on  hearing  it,  were  also  filled  with  gratification 
and  delight  at  the  answer  which  it  gave  to 
what  had  long  been  a  subject  of  perplexity  and 
awe. 

Day  after  day  before  that  rock  the  study  of 
other  verses  followed.  Slowly  of  course  at 
first,  but  gradually  increasing  as  they  became 
more  and  more  acquainted  with  the  syllables. 
Thus  these  eager  interested  Indians,  studied 
amidst  these  primitive  surroundings,  and  ap- 
plied themselves  with  such  earnestness  to  their 
work,  that  although  they  had  never  been  to 
school  a  day  in  their  lives,  some  of  them,  in  ten 
days  or  two  weeks,  were  able  to  read  with 
fluency  the  Word  of  God  in  their  own  lan- 
guage. No  wonder  the  great  Lord  Dufferin, 
then  Governor  General  of  the  Dominion  of 
Canada,  said  to  me : 

"The  man  who  invented  that  syllabic 
alphabet,  was  one  of  the  great  benefactors  of 
humanity,  and  more  richly  deserved  a  pension, 
a  title,  and  a  resting  place  in  Westminster 
Abbey,  than  many  who  were  there  buried." 

For  some  years,  at  several  of  the  missions, 
the  Christian  Indians  were  only  taught  a 
knowledge  of  these  syllabic  characters,  and 
were  thus  only  able  to  read  the  books  which 
were  printed  with  them.  Now,  however,  in  all 
the  schools,  the  English  language  is  taught  also, 
and  our  common  alphabet  is  in  general  use. 


God  on  the  Rock  93 

The  result  is,  that  many  of  the  younger  gener- 
ation understand,  talk,  and  read  in  English. 
English  Bibles  are  being  circulated  among 
them,  and  many  of  the  younger  people  already 
prefer  the  English  Bible  to  the  Indian  transla- 
tion. Still,  all  the  older  people  only  under- 
stand the  syllabic  characters ;  and  so  for  years 
to  come,  this  wonderful  invention  will  still  be 
utilized,  and  will  continue  to  be  a  benediction. 
Hymn-books,  catechisms,  the  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
and  a  few  other  books  of  a  religious  char- 
acter, have  been  printed  in  the  syllabics,  and 
are  much  prized  and  well  used  by  their  Indian 
readers. 

All  the  churches  that  are  carrying  on  mis- 
sionary work  in  those  vast  northern  regions 
have  availed  themselves  of  Mr.  Evans'  inven- 
tion. Among  other  tribes  than  the  Cree,  where 
there  are  different  sounds  in  their  language, 
some  few  extra  characters  have  been  added. 
Even  in  Labrador  and  Greenland,  the  devoted 
Moravian  missionaries  who  are  there  toiling, 
are  successfully  using  the  syllabic  characters  to 
teach  the  poor  wandering  Esquimaux  how  to 
read,  in  his  own  uncouth  language,  the  Word  of 
God. 


VI 

THE   STORY  OP   SANDY  HARTB 

AMONG  all  of  my  appointments,  the  one 
which  perhaps  afforded  me  the  greatest  pleas- 
ure and  satisfaction,  was  that  of  Nelson  River. 
At  Oxford  house  we  had  a  larger  number  of 
converted  Indians  ;  but  that  mission  had  been 
long  organised,  and  devout  and  earnest  men, 
like  Rev.  Messrs.  Brooking,  and  Stringfellow, 
had  given  to  it  years  of  honest  self-denying 
toil.  Nelson  River,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a 
new  and  untried  field,  where  it  was  my  priv- 
ilege and  joy  to  go  as  the  first  missionary. 

Of  the  many  grand  converts  there  happily 
rescued  from  the  darkness  and  power  of  pagan- 
ism, there  is  one  beautiful  character  who  is  now 
the  right  hand  of  the  resident  missionary.  His 
name  is  Sandy  Harte.  My  introduction  to  him 
was  a  peculiar  one.  The  day  was  one  of  rare 
beauty,  and  I  had  spent  the  forenoon  in  teach- 
ing a  number  of  adults  and  Indian  children 
how  to  read  the  Word  of  God  printed  in  the 
syllabic  characters.  During  the  noon  hour  of 
rest  I  entered  the  birch  bark  wigwam  of  one  of 
94 


THE  BEAR  FISHING. 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte          95 

the  principal  Indians,  and  was  naturally  sur- 
prised to  observe  a  fine  looking  Indian  lad 
stretched  out  on  a  bed  of  rabbit  robes  and 
blankets  while  the  other  boys  were  engaged  in 
various  sports.  Addressing  him,  I  said  : 

"Why  are  you  lying  here  this  beautiful 
day  ?  " 

With  a  sudden  movement  he  jerked  away  the 
upper  robe  that  was  over  him,  and,  pointing  to 
his  shattered  thigh,  said  in  tones  full  of  bitter- 
ness : 

"  Missionary,  that  is  the  reason  why  I  am 
here,  instead  of  being  out  in  the  sunshine  with 
the  other  boys." 

The  despairing  tone,  the  emphatic  utterance, 
at  once  aroused  my  sympathies  and  caused  me 
to  be  deeply  interested  in  this  wounded  boy,  so 
helpless,  not  knowing  the  hour  when,  accord- 
ing to  the  prevailing  custom,  he  might  be  put 
to  death.  The  heartless  reasoning  of  these  In- 
dians in  such  cases  was  like  this :  He  will  al- 
ways be  lame  and  helpless  ;  why  should  he  be 
a  burden  on  his  friends?  let  us  kill  him  at  once  ; 
it  will  be  better  for  him  and  them.  However, 
they  had  postponed  the  killing  of  this  lad  be- 
cause he  was  the  son  of  the  chief. 

After  I  had  examined  his  wound  and  had 
given  some  directions  as  to  its  treatment,  I  sat 
down  beside  him  and  heard  from  his  lips  the 
sad  story  of  the  misfortune  which  had  crippled 


96  On  the  Indian  Trail 

him  for  life.  It  seems,  that  he  and  another  boy 
were  out  shooting  partridges  and  rabbits. 
While  moving  through  the  forest,  Sandy  walk- 
ing ahead,  the  gun  of  his  comrade  accidentally 
went  off  and  poured  its  contents  into  his  leg. 
The  bone  was  badly  splintered,  and  the  muscles 
so  cut  and  torn,  that  there  was  absolutely  no 
possibility  of  his  ever  being  able  to  walk  on  it 
again. 

After  I  had  had  quite  a  chat  with  him,  I 
asked  if  he  would  like  to  be  able  to  read  the 
Word  of  God.  His  bright  eyes  shone  with 
pleasure,  and  his  response  was  so  expressive  of 
eager  longing,  that  I  at  once  began  the  first 
lesson.  Sitting  beside  him  on  the  ground,  I 
drew  the  syllabic  characters  and  spent  an 
hour  or  so  in  teaching  them  to  him.  He  had  a 
very  retentive  memory,  and  was  intensely 
anxious  to  learn  as  rapidly  as  possible.  So, 
every  day,  when  I  had  finished  giving  lessons 
to  the  crowd  of  young  and  old  people,  I  used 
to  hurry  over  to  the  wigwam  where  he  lay  to 
give  him  additional  instruction  ;  and  so  deeply 
interested  was  he,  that  I  felt  well  repaid  for 
my  trouble. 

As  I  was  hundreds  of  miles  from  home — hav- 
ing come  on  that  long  trail  with  a  couple  of 
Indians  in  a  birch  canoe — and  had  a  number  of 
other  points  at  which  I  wished  to  stop  and  do 
missionary  work,  I  was  obliged  to  bring  my 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte          97 

visit  at  this  place  to  an  end  after  a  couple  of 
weeks.  But  before  leaving,  I  had  an  informal 
conversation  with  Murdo,  Oowikapun,  and 
some  other  of  the  friendly  Indians. 

"  What  a  pity  it  is,"  I  exclaimed,  "that  Sandy 
could  not  be  educated !  If  only  he  could  be 
educated  enough  to  be  your  teacher,  what  a 
good  thing  it  would  be !  For,  next  to  a 
missionary  to  live  permanently  among  you,  a 
godly  teacher  would  be  the  best  thing  you  could 
have.  He  will  never  again  have  the  full  use 
of  his  leg,  so  will  not  be  able  to  become  a 
great  hunter ;  but  if  he  had  an  education,  he 
might  be  a  blessing  to  you  all !  " 

Then  I  bade  farewell  to  these  northern  In- 
dians who  had  received  me  so  kindly,  and  with 
some  parting  words,  especially  urging  that  the 
wounded  boy  should  be  kindly  cared  for,  I  re- 
sumed my  adventurous  journey. 

As  we  journeyed  on  from  place  to  place  we  had 
plenty  of  strange  adventures.  We  shot  a  fine 
black  bear,  and,  at  our  first  meal  after  our 
battle  with  him,  enjoyed  picking  his  ribs.  In 
his  capture,  I  was  very  much  interested  in 
watching  how  human  experience  was  able  to 
overmatch  animal  instinct.  We  had  a  very 
narrow  escape  in  some  wild  and  treacherous 
rapids,  where  we  lost  part  of  the  contents  of 
our  canoe  and  were  all  nearly  drowned  ere  we 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  shore.  This  loss  was 
7 


98  On  the  Indian  Trail 

the  more  keenly  felt,  as  in  such  an  isolated 
place  it  is  utterly  impossible  to  replenish  your 
store.  However,  after  several  such  mishaps,  we 
succeeded  in  carrying  out  our  programme  ;  and 
at  length  reached  home  in  safety. 

The  long  winter,  with  its  seven  or  eight 
months  of  bitter  cold,  set  in  shortly  after. 
For  a  few  weeks  I  was  kept  busy  with  home 
matters  and  the  affairs  of  the  local  mission  ap- 
pointment. As  soon,  however,  as  the  great 
lakes  and  rivers  were  well  frozen  over  and  a 
sufficient  fall  of  snow  made  it  possible  to  begin 
my  winter  journeys,  I  harnessed  my  dogs,  and 
with  my  guide  and  dog-drivers,  responded,  as  far 
as  possible,  to  the  many  calls  to  tell  the  Story 
of  the  Great  Book. 

So  many  were  the  Macedonian  calls  from 
other  places  that  winter,  that  I  did  not  make  a 
trip  to  Nelson  River.  This  I  regretted  exceed- 
ingly, for  although  it  was  the  most  distant,  it 
was  one  of  the  most  promising  and  encourag- 
ing of  all  the  new  fields  to  which  I  had  gone. 

About  the  middle  of  the  following  summer, 
while  enjoying  the  glories  of  a  magnificent  sun- 
set, I  saw  a  canoe  with  some  Indians  in  it  com- 
ing toward  our  home.  When  they  had  landed, 
two  of  them  at  once  came  up  to  me,  greeted  me 
most  cordially,  and  before  I  could  fully  return 
their  greetings,  or  recall  where  I  had  before 
seen  them,  exclaimed : 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte          99 

"  We  remember  your  good  words  to  us — and 
we  have  brought  Sandy  along." 

"  Sandy  along  !     Who  is  Sandy  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Why  Sandy  Harte — you  remember  him — • 
the  boy  who  was  shot  in  the  leg — the  one  you 
used  to  go  and  teach;  we  have  brought  him 
along,  for  we  remember  your  words,  so  sweet 
to  us,  about  him.*' 

"  What  were  my  words?"  I  asked,  for  I  could 
not  at  that  moment  recall  them. 

"  Why,  your  words  were :  *  What  a  pity  it  is 
that  Sandy  is  not  educated !  If  he  were  edu- 
cated, he  might  be  such  a  blessing  to  you  all.' 
We  have  not  forgotten  it.  We  have  often 
talked  about  it.  What  you  said  to  us  and 
taught  us  from  the  Great  Book  was  so  good, 
we  are  hungry  for  more.  We  are  willing  to  be 
taught.  You  cannot  come  all  the  time.  We 
want  some  one  to  be  with  us  who  knows  some- 
thing; so  we  have  brought  Sandy  all  the  way 
in  the  canoe  to  be  taught  by  you;  and  then  to 
come  back  to  us,  that  we  may  learn  of  him." 

There  was  no  mistake  about  it.  There  was 
Sandy  in  the  middle  of  the  canoe  looking  up  at 
me  with  those  brilliant  black  eyes  that  had  so 
attracted  me  in  that  wigwam  far  away. 

I  went  down  to  the  canoe,  spoke  kindly  to 
the  lad,  shook  his  hand,  and  invited  all  the 
Indians  into  my  house. 

After  introducing  them  to  my  good  wife,  I 


ioo  On  the  Indian  Trail 

told  her  Sandy's  story ;  arid  how  they  had  re- 
membered my  words  of  a  year  ago,  and  had 
brought  him  on  this  long  journey  to  place  him 
in  our  care:  utterly  unable  themselves  to  do 
anything  for  his  support.  I  confess,  that  for 
the  moment,  I  regretted  having  been  so  quick 
in  uttering  words  which  had  been  so  construed 
by  these  Indians  and  which  had  thrown  upon 
our  care  this  wild  wounded  Indian  boy. 

It  was  the  time  of  the  first  Kiel  Rebellion  in 
Manitoba,  and  although  we  were  living  far 
north  of  the  actual  scene  of  rebellion,  yet  our 
supplies  had  in  so  great  a  measure  been  cut  off, 
that  we  were  existing  on  very  scant  rations. 
Often  we  averaged  no  more  than  two  meals  a 
day,  and  frequently,  when  eating  breakfast,  we 
did  not  know  from  what  quarter  our  dinner 
was  to  come.  And  now  while  on  the  verge  of 
starvation,  came  this  extraordinary  addition  to 
our  family,  which  meant  another  mouth  to  feed, 
and  another  body  to  clothe.  In  our  abounding 
poverty,  here  indeed  was  a  trial  of  faith ! 

After  talking  the  matter  over  with  my  brave 
large-hearted  wife,  and  asking  divine  direction, 
the  noble  woman  said : 

"  The  Lord  is  in  it,  and  He  who  has  sent  the 
mouth  to  be  filled  will  surely  send  all  our  addi- 
tional requirements." 

So  we  cheerfully  received  Sandy  into  our 
home  and  made  him  as  one  of  our  family.  He 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte         101 

was  in  a  deplorable  condition  in  more  ways 
than  one.  Coming  from  a  wild  band  of  Indians 
who  were  in  complete  ignorance  of  cleanliness 
and  of  the  habits  and  requirements  of  the  whites, 
this  poor  wounded  Indian  boy  had  many  things 
to  learn ;  and  at  first,  on  account  of  his  igno- 
rance and  prejudices,  we  had  many  opportunities 
for  the  exercise  of  patience  and  forbearance. 


HOW   SANDY  WAS  CONQUERED 

Like  nearly  all  of  the  pagan  Indians,  Sandy 
had  prejudices  against  women,  and  it  was  hard 
at  first  to  get  him  to  pay  any  attention  to  what 
the  missionary's  wife  said.  He  thought  it  hu- 
miliating and  degrading  to  obey,  or  even  to  pay 
any  attention  to  a  woman's  request.  Yet  we 
both  treated  him  with  the  greatest  kindness, 
and  hoped  and  prayed,  that  time  and  the  grace 
of  God  would  work  the  changes  needed  for  him. 

He  was  a  bright  scholar  and  made  rapid  prog- 
ress in  his  studies,  and  in  a  few  months  was  able 
to  read  in  his  own  language.  For  a  time,  the 
novelty  of  his  new  surroundings  kept  him  in- 
terested, and  he  seemed  quite  at  home.  He 
made  many  friends  among  our  Christian  In- 
dians, who.  on  learning  of  the  peculiar  way  in 
which  he  had  been  thrown  upon  our  hands,  be- 
came much  interested  in  him.  He  went  to  Sun- 
day school,  and  also  attended  the  various  serv- 


102  On  the  Indian  Trail 

ices  in  the  church;  but  for  a  long  time  it  seemed 
as  though  it  was  only  in  the  spirit  of  mere  idle 
curiosity,  or  because  others  did  so. 

When  the  first  long  winter  after  his  arrival 
had  ended,  and  the  springtime  had  come  again, 
Sandy  became  very  homesick  and  longed  to  go 
back  to  his  far-off  wigwam  abode.  The  sight 
of  rippling  waters  and  running  streams  was  too 
much  for  his  wild  untamed  spirit,  and  he  chafed 
under  the  discipline  of  a  civilized  home,  and  be- 
came dejected  and  miserable.  We  all  noticed 
his  restlessness ;  but  talked  kindly  to  him,  and 
urged  him  to  apply  himself  to  his  lessons, 
that  he  might  the  sooner  be  able  to  return  to 
his  wild  free  life  in  his  distant  home.  But  In- 
dian-like, the  more  we  said  to  him,  the  worse 
he  seemed  to  become,  until  he  made  it  very  un- 
comfortable for  us  all. 

One  day  instead  of  going  to  school,  he  hob- 
bled away  on  his  crutches  to  a  picturesque 
point  of  land  which  jutted  far  out  into  the  lake. 
In  the  evening,  the  teacher  came  to  the  mission 
house  and  inquired  why  Sandy  had  not  been  at 
school  that  day.  This  of  course  was  news  to 
us.  We  were  at  once  much  alarmed,  and  im- 
mediately began  searching  for  the  absentee. 
After  about  an  hour's  search,  in  which  quite  a 
number  of  Indians  took  part,  Sandy  was  found 
curled  up  among  the  rocks  on  the  point,  crying 
bitterly  for  his  Nelson  River  home. 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte        103 

Having  exhausted  all  my  persuasive  powers, 
I  saw  that  I  must  change  my  style  of  dealing 
with  him.  So,  appearing  to  be  very  indignant, 
I  picked  up  a  large  stick,  and,  rushing  at  him, 
sternly  ordered  him  to  get  up  and  return  to 
our  house  as  quickly  as  possible.  With  a 
frightened  glance  into  my  face  to  see  how  much 
I  meant,  he  sprang  up  and  hurried  back  to  the 
mission  house.  I  gave  him  a  severe  reprimand- 
ing, asking  him,  among  other  things  if  he 
thought  such  conduct  on  his  part  was  a  fair 
return  for  all  our  kindness  to  him.  Then  I 
said  to  him  sharply  : 

"  Go  up  to  your  room  and  bring  down  all 
your  torn  and  soiled  clothes  and  moccasins." 

With  a  sad  look  he  obeyed,  and  soon  returned 
with  his  bundle.  After  looking  over  the  lot,  I 
took  them  away  from  him ;  and,  calling  in  an 
Indian  woman,  gave  her  some  soap  and  sewing 
material,  and  told  her  to  take  all  of  those 
things,  wash  and  mend  them  nicely,  bring  them 
back  to  me,  and  I  would  pay  her  for  her  trouble. 
When  he  saw  his  clothes  going  away,  he  was  in 
great  perplexity  and  distress  as  he  was  not  at 
all  sure  that  they  would  be  returned  to  him. 
The  fact  was,  he  had  a  good  deal  of  vanity 
about  him  in  those  days,  and  I  made  the  dis- 
covery that  he  had  become  very  proud  of  the 
clothes  we  had  given  him  in  place  of  the 
wretched  ones  in  which  he  had  been  brought  to 


104  On  the  Indian  Trail 

us.  So,  the  threatened  loss  of  all  he  had  except 
what  he  wore,  was  to  him  a  dire  calamity.  I 
let  him  grieve  for  some  hours,  saying  but  little 
to  him,  resolved  to  put  a  stop  to  his  nonsense 
which  was  only  making  himself  and  others 
miserable. 

When  the  bundle  of  clean  clothing  returned, 
I  added  to  it  new  pants,  shirts,  moccasins,  a 
bright  handkerchief,  and  a  hat ;  then,  in  the 
kindest  way  possible,  with  loving  words.  I  gave 
him  the  whole  bundle.  Poor  boy !  he  was  be- 
wildered and  amazed.  He  could  not  speak  his 
thanks;  but  his  glistening  tear  dimmed  eyes 
told  us  that  he  was  cured  and  conquered. 
Never  did  the  stern  lesson  have  to  be  repeated. 

But  he  was  greatly  perplexed.  It  was  such 
different  treatment  from  that  to  which  he  had 
been  accustomed.  This  combination  of  stern- 
ness and  kindness,  was  to  him  such  a  mystery, 
that  he  evidently  could  not  stop  thinking  and 
wondering  about  it.  So,  one  day  when  he  had 
nothing  to  do,  he  went  over  to  have  a  talk  on 
the  subject  with  one  of  the  Indians  who  was  a 
sensible  Christian  man  and  a  great  friend  of  his. 

"I  cannot  make  out  our  missionary,"  said 
Sandy.  "  When  he  came  after  me  to  the  point 
where  I  had  hid,  he  seemed  very  angry,  and 
took  up  a  big  stick  as  if  to  strike  me. 
Indeed,  he  nearly  frightened  the  life  out  of  me 
although  he  did  not  once  hit  me.  Then,  after 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte         105 

ordering  me  back  to  the  house  in  such  a  hurry, 
he  made  me  bring  out  all  my  clothes,  and  gave 
them  to  a  woman  to  carry  away.  Of  course  I 
never  expected  to  see  them  again :  but  I  did — 
they  came  back  clean  and  mended,  and  he  had 
added  a  lot  more  to  them.  I  cannot  understand 
it.  The  missionary  at  first  seemed  as  though 
he  would  thrash  me,  then  he  turned  round  and 
gave  me  all  these  good  things." 

From  the  Christian  Indian  to  whom  Sandy 
had  gone,  we  afterward  learned  all  about  this  in- 
terview. He  said  he  let  the  lad  tell  him  of  his 
perplexities,  and  then  gave  him  a  long  faithful 
talk.  Here  is  the  substance  of  his  reply  to 
Sandy. 

"The  missionary  and  his  kind  wife  have 
come  here  to  do  us  good.  They  have  left  their 
friends  far  away.  They  were  many  days  on 
their  journey  to  this  land,  and  have  suffered 
many  hardships.  When  your  friends  brought 
you.  here,  they  took  you  into  their  home  and 
treated  you,  not  as  a  servant,  but  as  one  of  their 
own  family.  There  is  not  an  Indian  in  the  vil- 
lage but  would  be  glad  to  change  places  with 
you,  and  to  be  treated  as  you  have  been.  If 
they  have  food,  they  share  it  equally  with  you. 
You  have  had  medicine  and  bandages  for  your 
sore  leg.  You  are  well  dressed.  They  have 
been  like  parents  to  you.  Yet  you  have  not 
been  grateful.  You  acted  very  foolishly.  You 


io6  On  the  Indian  Trail 

ran  away  from  school  and  hid  yourself.  You 
made  their  hearts  alarmed  for  fear  some  serious 
accident  had  happened  to  you.  The  worst  is, 
you  do  not  obey  Ookemasquao  (the  missionary's 
wife,)  as  you  ought.  White  ladies  are  to  be 
as  much  obeyed  and  respected  as  men.  Yet  in 
spite  of  all  your  foolishness  and  stubbornness, 
they  have  been  very  patient  with  you.  They 
kept  hoping,  that  as  you  grew  older  you  would 
grow  wiser  ;  but  you  have  been  getting  so  much 
worse  lately,  that  the  missionary  has  had  to 
deal  sternly  with  you.  He,  however,  felt  sorry 
for  you ;  his  heart  was  kind  toward  you  all  the 
time ;  and  so,  when  you  went  back,  he  showed 
his  love  to  you  by  his  presents.  We  all  see, 
that  the  missionary  and  his  wife  have  nothing 
in  their  hearts  toward  you  but  love.  But  you 
must  be  obedient,  and  you  ought  to  be  thank- 
ful. They  are  praying  much  for  you,  and  hop- 
ing that  you  will  yet  become  a  good  Christian, 
and  at  some  future  time,  be  a  great  blessing  to 
your  own  people." 

Thus  this  sensible  Christian  Indian  talked  to 
Sandy,  and  it  was  to  him  a  revelation.  From 
that  day  there  was  a  decided  change  in  him  for 
the  better.  He  became  obedient  and  studious, 
and  was  ever  anxious  to  do  what  he  could  in 
return  for  the  kindnesses  shown  to  him.  He 
was  a  capital  shot,  and  he  and  I  had  some  fine 
hunting  and  fishing  excursions  together.  As 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte         107 

his  lameness  interfered  with  successful  hunting 
on  land,  but  not  with  his  dexterity  in  handling 
the  paddle,  I  purchased  for  him  a  light  canoe 
in  which  he  made  many  short  excursions. 

Like  all  Indian  boys,  he  was  very  clever  with 
the  bow  and  arrow.  I  remember  an  exhibition 
of  his  quickness  _and  skill  that  almost  amazed 
me.  I  had  taken  him  with  me  on  a  shooting 
excursion  to  a  place  which  was  called  the  Old 
Fort.  It  was  so  named  from  the  fact,  that 
many  years  before,  the  Hudson  Bay  Company 
had  a  trading  post  there  for  traffic  with  the 
Indians.  It  had  been  abandoned  for  many 
years,  but  in  its  vicinity  were  some  capital  hunt- 
ing grounds.  This  spot  to  which  Sandy  and  I 
had  gone  for  ducks,  was  about  twenty  miles 
from  our  home.  We  had  paddled  that  distance 
in  our  canoe,  and  were  quite  successful  in  re- 
plenishing our  larder.  While  carefully  pad- 
dling along,  we  saw  a  fine  large  mallard  duck 
swimming  quite  a  distance  ahead.  When  we 
thought  we  were  within  range,  Sandy,  who  was 
in  the  bow  of  the  canoe,  carefully  raised  his  gun 
and  fired.  Whether  it  was  owing  to  the  move- 
ment of  the  canoe  or  not  I  cannot  say ;  but  he 
missed  the  duck.  Quick  as  a  flash  he  threw 
down  his  gun,  and,  catching  up  his  bow  and 
arrow,  fired  at  the  duck  which  of  course  had 
instantly  risen  and  was  flying  away  directly 
in  front  of  us.  Imagine  my  surprise  and  de- 


lo8  On  the  Indian  Trail 

light,  to  see  the  arrow  wing  its  way  so  unerr- 
ingly, that  it  pierced  the  duck,  and  brought  it 
suddenly  down  into  the  river. 

Thus  Sandy  not  only  became  a  wiser  and  a 
better  boy,  but  at  times  he  was  quite  helpful  in 
his  way,  and  returned  from  some  hunting  ex- 
cursions with  quite  a  variety  of  small  game 
which  added  considerably  to  our  household  bill 
of  fare.  We  praised  him  for  his  skill  and  in- 
dustry, and  very  quickly  discovered,  that  kind 
loving  words  were  the  highest  reward  which 
could  be  given  him.  Poor  boy !  he  had  had 
but  few  of  them  in  paganism ;  and  now  from 
us,  whom  he  had  learned  to  respect  and  love, 
they  were  as  water  to  a  thirsty  soul. 

SANDY'S  CONVEESION 

About  a  year  after  this  unpleasantness  with 
Sandy,  a  very  gracious  revival  began  among 
our  Indians,  extending  far  and  wide.  It  was 
the  fruit  of  years  of  teaching  and  preaching  by 
numbers  of  devoted  missionaries,  and  of  much 
personal  effort  to  bring  the  people  to  a  decision 
for  Christianity.  I  had  observed  with  great 
joy,  that  the  prayer-meetings  and  other  social 
religious  services,  were  largely  increased  by  the 
attendance  of  Indians  who  had  been  under  re- 
ligious influences  for  a  long  time,  but  had  not 
yet  fully  given  themselves  to  Christ.  Even 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte         109 

among  the  pagan  Indians,  there  was  less  oppo- 
sition to  Christianity,  and  a  greater  willingness 
to  hear  the  Word  than  ever  before.  At  times 
this  spirit  showed  itself  in  a  way  that  to  most 
people  would  have  seemed  to  savour  much  of 
selfishness.  For  example,  one  day,  very  early 
in  the  morning,  the  chief  came  rushing  into  our 
mission  house,  auli  gave  utterance  to  this  extra- 
ordinary statement : 

"  Missionary,  there  are  a  lot  of  pagan  Indians 
at  the  Fort.  They  are  the  ones  you  were  talk- 
ing to  about  becoming  Christians.  I  have  just 
come  from  visiting  them,  and  have  been  urging 
them  to  give  up  their  old  way ;  they  said  to  me, 
*  Tell  your  missionary,  if  he  will  give  us  one 
good  square  meal  of  potatoes,  we  will  come 
and  hear  him  preach  three  times ! ' 

Doubtless  many  will  smile  at  this  quaint  offer 
— this  queer  exchange  of  commodities ;  yet  we 
who  were  on  the  ground,  and  remembered  the 
haughty  stubborness  of  those  same  Indians  only 
a  short  time  before,  were  glad  to  hear  thus  from 
them.  We  promptly  accepted  the  challenge 
and  furnished  the  potatoes.  What  appetites 
they  had  !  But  they  carried  out  their  share  of 
the  contract,  and  listened  attentively — and 
smoked — during  the  three  services.  They  were 
always  friendly  afterward ;  and,  in  subsequent 
years,  a  number  of  them  became  sincere  Chris- 
tians. It  pays  to  get  the  truth  into  the  heart, 


iio  On  the  Indian  Trail 

even  if  we  have  to  begin  by  filling  the  stomach 
with  potatoes  ! 

So  anxious  had  Sandy  become  to  win  our  ap- 
proval, that  we  knew  he  was  willing  and  cour- 
ageous enough  to  take  any  stand  we  suggested. 
But  we  were  so  very  anxious  that  his  decision 
for  Christ  should  be  built  on  a  deeper,  firmer 
foundation  than  a  mere  desire  to  please  us,  that, 
in  talking  with  him,  we  used  no  special  personal 
persuasion  to  bring  him  to  a  decision  for  the 
Lord  Jesus.  It  was  evident  to  us  by  his  life 
that  the  Good  Spirit  was  graciously  working 
upon  his  heart,  and  that  he  was  under  deep 
religious  conviction. 

And  soon  the  blessed  hour  came.  One  after- 
noon, while  I  was  urging  upon  the  large  audi- 
ence who  had  assembled  in  the  church  the 
privilege  and  necessity  of  immediate  decision 
for  Christ,  Sandy,  with  others,  sprang  up  from 
his  seat  near  the  door  and  came  forward  for 
prayer.  His  first  audible  petition  still  rings  in 
my  ear  as  though  uttered  but  yesterday : 

"  O  Tapa-yechekayan  Kiss-awa-totawenan ! ' 
(Oh  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me  !) 

I  knelt  beside  him  and  pointed  him  to  the 
dear  Saviour — the  sinner's  Friend.  I  quoted 
the  sweet  promises  of  the  blessed  Book,  and 
assured  him  they  were  for  him.  He  wept,  and 
was  deeply  anxious  for  the  assurance  that  even 
he  had  a  personal  interest  in  the  crucified  One. 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte         1 1 1 

Earnest  prayers  were  offered  for  him  and  others, 
who,  like  him,  were  seeking  the  Pearl  of  great 
price.  We  talked  to  him  of  the  love  of  God  as 
revealed  in  Jesus.  We  tried  to  explain  to  him 
the  way  of  faith — the  simple  plan  of  salvation. 
That  best  of  all  Teachers,  that  infallible  Guide, 
the  Holy  Spirit,  applied  the  truth  to  his  heart ; 
and  our  dear  Sandy  saw  the  way,  and  believed 
unreservedly  in  the  Lord  Jesus.  He  was  a 
sweet  singer,  and  had  often  joined  with  us  in 
our  songs  of  devotion  at  our  family  altar ;  but 
now  as  never  before  he  sang  in  his  own  musical 
language  the  translation  of  the  verse,  "My 
God  is  reconciled,"  etc. 

"Ma'  to  noo-too-ta-min 

Ne-pa-tan  a-e-sit, 

Ak-wa  a-wa-ko-mit 
Na-ma-ne-say-ke-sin, 
Wa-na-tuk-ne-pa-hi-to-tan 
Abba  No-ta  a-e-twa-yan." 

Need  we  add  that  our  Indian  boy,  so  strangely 
thrown  on  our  care,  was  doubly  dear  and  pre- 
cious to  us  from  that  hour !  We  had  had  our 
long  months  of  trouble  and  anxiety  about  him, 
and  friends,  both  white  and  Indian,  had  thought, 
and  had  told  us,  that  what  we  were  doing  for 
him  was,  "love's  labor  lost."  How  thankful 
we  were  at  this  glad  hour  of  his  clear  and 
beautiful  conversion,  that  we  had  persevered? 
We  never  could  help  feeling  that  his  coming  to 


1 1 2  On  the  Indian  Trail 

us  was  from  God,  and  in  spite  of  all  the  dis- 
couragements, we  had  not  dared  to  give  up  our 
charge.  We  had  accepted  it  as  a  trust,  although 
it  became  a  trial  of  patience ;  yet  when  the 
clouds  cleared  away,  we  had  our  exceeding 
great  reward. 

From  that  day,  his  presence  in  our  humble 
mission  home  was  a  benediction.  He  became 
a  very  devout  and  reverent  student  of  the  Word 
of  God ;  and  as  its  blessed  truths  opened  up 
before  him,  he  had  many  questions  to  ask,  so 
that  we  had  many  loving  talks  about  the  holy 
Book.  Often  his  heart  overflowed  with  grati- 
tude and  thanksgiving  to  God,  and  he  would 
exclaim : 

"  O  missionary,  these  words  are  very  sweet 
to  my  heart !  " 

To  spend  hours  on  his  knees  with  his  open 
Bible  before  him,  was  no  uncommon  thing  for 
Sandy.  And  when  he  came  down  from  his 
upper  room  with  his  face  radiant,  he  would 
sometimes  exclaim : 

"  Oh,  how  blind  and  stupid  I  was  !  I  used  to 
think  that  the  white  man's  religion  was  just  like 
the  Indian's,  only  performed  in  another  way, 
but  now  I  know — yes  I  know  it  is  different : 
oh  so  different !  For  do  I  not  feel  it  in  my 
heart,  that  God  is  my  Father,  and  His  Son  is  my 
Saviour,  my  Elder  Brother !  Oh  yes,  I  know ! 
I  know!" 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte         113 

Then  he  would  burst  into  song,  asking  us  to 
join  with  him,  which  we  often  did  gladly ;  and 
heaven  seemed  nearer  while  we  sang. 

Thus,  he  lived  with  us  as  a  son  in  our  home. 
He  studied  hard,  and  grew  physically  and  spir- 
itually. His  faith  never  wavered,  and  his  sim- 
ple trust  never  gave  way  to  doubt.  He  was  a 
benediction  in  the  schoolroom,  and  the  trans- 
formation of  a  number  of  wild  Indian  lads  into 
loving,  docile  pupils,  was  the  result  of  his 
kindly  influence  over  them. 

The  long  cold  winter  came  and  passed  away. 
During  it  I  traveled  some  thousands  of  miles 
on  my  dog-sleds,  or  tramped  through  the  deep 
snow,  day  after  day,  on  my  snow  shoes.  Among 
other  places,  I  visited  Nelson  River,  and  had 
the  great  pleasure  of  taking  down  some  little 
gifts  from  Sandy  to  his  relatives. 

The  following  summer,  I  again  visited  his 
people  and  had  the  joy  of  telling  them,  that  he 
was  well  and  was  making  rapid  progress  in  his 
studies.  Great  was  their  rejoicings  at  this  good 
news. 

On  these  trips  we  had  our  usual  amount  of 
hardships  and  dangers,  and  met  with  some  pe- 
culiar adventures.  One  that  very  much  inter- 
ested us  all,  and  for  a  time  much  excited  me, 
was  our  discovery  of  a  bear  fishing,  and  our 
capture  of  his  supplies.  He  was  a  fine  large 
black  fellow,  and  had  seated  himself  on  a  rock 
8 


114  On  tne  Indian  Trail 

near  the  shore.  Between  this  rock  and  the 
shore  rushed  a  little  portion  of  the  great  river, 
in  which  quite  a  shoal  of  white  fish  seemed  to 
have  been  spawning.  The  sharp  eyes  of  the 
bear  having  detected  them,  he  had  resolved  to 
capture  a  number  of  them  for  his  supper.  His 
hand-like  paw  was  all  the  fishing  tackle  he 
needed.  He  very  skilfully  thrust  it  low  down 
into  the  water  under  the  passing  fish,  and  with 
a  sudden  movement  sent  the  finny  beauty  fly- 
ing through  the  air,  and  out  upon  the  not  very 
distant  shore.  When  our  canoe  appeared 
around  a  bend  in  the  river,  his  fine  sense  of 
hearing  detected  our  approach.  At  first,  he 
seemed  to  show  fight,  and  acted  as  though  he 
would  defend  his  fish ;  but  a  bullet  caused  him 
to  change  his  mind  about  fighting,  and  he  fled 
into  the  forest  leaving  us  to  enjoy  his  splendid 
fish.  Good  fish  indeed  they  were,  and  quite 
sufficient  for  our  evening  and  morning  meals,  in 
spite  of  the  good  appetites  which  such  a  glori- 
ous out-of-door  life  had  given  us. 

SANDY,   A    BENEDICTION 

The  next  summer  after  Sandy's  conversion, 
my  good  wife  and  I  noticed,  that  for  several 
days  he  was  restless  and  excited,  and,  to  use  an 
Indian  phrase,  there  was  something  on  his 
mind.  We  kindly  questioned  him  as  to  the 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte        115 

cause  of  his  unrest  and  mental  disquietude,  and 
drew  from  him,  that  it  was  solely  on  account  of 
a  visit  that  was  soon  to  be  paid  him  by  quite  a 
number  of  the  trip  men  of  his  own  Nelson 
River  people.  His  anxiety  was,  that  at  this 
the  first  meeting  with  his  own  people  since  he 
had  become  a  Christian,  the  talk  which  he  was 
going  to  give  them  on  the  subject  of  the  good 
Book  and  his  acceptance  of  Christianity,  might 
be  made  a  great  blessing  to  them. 

So  many  and  so  valuable  were  the  furs  ob- 
tained in  those  days  in  the  Nelson  River  dis- 
trict, that  often  two  brigades  of  boats  were 
necessary  to  bring  up  the  catch  of  the  previous 
winter.  If  the  missionaries  have  been  preach- 
ing the  Gospel  at  the  different  posts  where  these 
brigades  are  made  up,  in  all  probability,  part  of 
the  people  have  accepted  Christianity,  while 
others  still  walk  in  their  own  ways.  On  their 
trips,  the  Christians  naturally  travel  together, 
while  the  pagans,  selecting  one  of  their  own 
party  as  their  leader,  form  a  separate  brigade. 

It  was  known,  that  the  first  brigade  coming 
consisted  principally  of  those  who  had  as  yet 
refused  to  renounce  their  pagan  ways.  Among 
them  were  some  of  Sandy's  own  relatives,  and 
he  was  intensely  anxious,  that  they  should  no 
longer  continue  in  their  opposition  to  Chris- 
tianity, and  when  appealed  to  on  the  subject, 
shrug  their  shoulders  and  say : 


lib  On  the  Indian  Trail 

"  As  our  fathers  lived  and  died,  so  will  we." 

So  we  found  out,  that  the  cause  of  Sandy's 
restlessness  was  his  great  anxiety  to  help  these, 
his  friends,  to  know  the  Christ. 

With  glad  hearts  we  cheerfully  promised  to 
aid  him  all  we  could.  Still  he  lingered,  and  it 
was  evident  that  something  else  was  on  his 
mind,  although  he  had  very  warmly  expressed 
his  gratitude  for  our  promise  of  assistance.  We 
encouraged  him  to  tell  us  what  was  still  on  his 
heart,  so  that  if  possible  we  might  help  him. 
Cheered  by  our  words  he  said : 

"  Oh !  I  know  you  will  help  me  to  tell  them 
of  Jesus  and  His  love ;  but  you  know  that  most 
of  these  boatmen  are  not  yet  Christians,  and 
they  are  so  blind  and  stupid.  They  are  just 
like  I  was  in  my  ignorance  of  this  religion — of 
the  Bible ;  and  my  trouble  and  fear  is,  that 
when  I  begin  to  talk  to  them  of  this  blessed 
way,  they  will  get  up  and  leave  before  I  have 
had  time  to  say  all  that  there  is  in  my  heart.  I 
am  afraid  we  cannot  keep  them  together  unless 
— unless " 

"  Unless  what?  "  I  said  as  he  stopped. 

The  dear  fellow  looked  up  in  our  faces,  and, 
seeing  nothing  but  encouragement  there,  mus- 
tered up  courage  to  say  this  that  was  in  his 
heart : 

"  Unless  we  give  them  something  to  eat." 

We  had  been  long  enough  among  the  Indians 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte         1 1 7 

to  know  that  the  boy  was  right ;  for  often,  to  win 
the  poor  ignorant  creatures  and  bring  them 
within  sound  of  the  Gospel,  had  we  given  them 
even  the  food  from  our  own  table,  until  we  our- 
selves knew  what  genuine  hunger  was.  Then 
we  could  better  understand,  how  difficult  it  was 
for  poor  hungry  listeners  to  give  undivided  at- 
tention to  spiritual  exhortations  on  an  empty 
stomach. 

"  Of  course  you  shall  have  a  dinner  for  them, 
Sandy,"  said  my  brave  wife,  "  and  we  will  do 
the  best  we  can  afford  for  you  and  your  peo- 
ple." 

His  cup  of  happiness  seemed  full,  as  he  heard 
this  answer,  and  as  we  saw  the  clouds  flitting 
away,  I  said : 

"  Is  this  what  has  been  troubling  you  for 
days  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  what  right  have  I  to  ask 
such  a  favor  from  you  who  have  been  so  kind  to 
me  ?  You  let  me  come  into  your  house  when  I 
was  wounded,  and  dark,  and  wicked ;  clothed 
me,  and  have  even  treated  me  as  though  I  had 
been  your  son  ;  and  best  of  all,  you  have  led  me 
up  into  this  great  joy  of  knowing  that  I  am  a 
child  of  God." 

Here  his  eyes  filled  and  he  was  overcome 
by  deep  emotion.  Much  moved,  we  waited 
silently  until  he  had  controlled  himself,  when 
he  continued : 


ii8  On  the  Indian  Trail 

"  You  know  how  every  day  we  have  together 
prayed  for  my  people ;  and  when  alone  before 
God  I  pray  for  them ;  they  are  always  in  my 
heart  and  prayers ;  and  now  that  I  am  to  have 
the  chance  of  speaking  to  them,  I  do  want  it  to 
succeed.  You  know,  that  the  poor  pagan 
Indian  seems  better  able,  or  more  willing, 
somehow,  to  listen  after  he  has  had  something 
to  eat." 

So  it  was  settled  to  Sandy's  great  delight, 
that  when  his  friends  arrived  from  Nelson 
River  they  were  to  be  invited  to  the  mission 
house  for  dinner. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day  when  they  came.  A 
long  table  had  been  made  and  put  up  on  the 
grassy  lawn  in  front  of  the  house,  and  a  good 
substantial  meal  had  been  prepared.  For- 
tunately, our  supply  boat  had  arrived  from 
Red  River,  and  some  Indian  hunters  had 
brought  in  abundance  of  game,  so  that  we  had 
enough  and  to  spare,  even  for  a  crowd  of  In- 
dians. 

Sandy  was  full  of  bliss.  To  watch  him,  and 
to  observe  how  interested  his  people  were  in 
him,  gave  us  great  delight. 

He  seated  his  Indian  friends  to  suit  his  own 
mind,  for  his  thoughts  were  more  on  the  after 
service  than  on  the  substantial  meal  before 
them.  When  all  were  in  their  assigned  places, 
he  said : 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte        119 

"Now,  wait  a  minute.  From  the  Great 
Spirit  we  receive  all  our  blessings ;  so  shut  your 
eyes  while  I  thank  Him  and  ask  His  blessing 
upon  us." 

They  obeyed  readily:  for  was  he  not  the  son 
of  a  chief,  and  taught  of  the  missionary  ?  They 
did  not  know  what  "  Amen  "  meant,  so,  after 
Sandy  had  said  itj  still  kept  their  eyes  shut,  and 
had  to  be  told  to  open  them  and  begin  at  their 
dinners. 

They  had  a  good  time  together.  There  was 
nothing  rude  or  awkward  in  any  of  their 
actions,  and  a  stranger  looking  on,  would  never 
have  imagined  that  the  majority  of  these  polite, 
courteous,  yet  picturesquely  garbed  bronzed 
stalwart  men,  had  never  before  sat  at  a  table  or 
eaten  with  forks.  These  latter  are  considered 
superfluous  in  the  Indian  country.  Give  an 
Indian  a  good  knife  and  a  horn  or  wooden 
spoon — and  what  cares  he  for  a  fork?  His  only 
concern  is  in  reference  to  the  supply  of  food. 
But  on  this  occasion  we  had  placed  forks  at 
each  place,  and  after  those  who  had  never  seen 
them  before  had  observed  how  one  familiar 
with  them  used  his,  they  all  quickly  imitated 
him  and  did  exceedingly  well. 

What  appetites  they  had  !  It  was  a  pleasure 
to  see  how  they  enjoyed  their  dinner — espe- 
cially as  we  knew  that  we  had  enough  for  all. 


12O  On  the  Indian  Trail 


SANDY,   A  MISSIONARY 

When  dinner  was  ended,  and  they  were 
about  to  rise  from  the  table,  a  few  words  from 
Sandy  caused  them  all  to  remain  quietly  seated. 
Now  we  perceived  why  he  had  arranged  them 
at  the  table  as  he  did.  Every  one  was  so  seated 
that  he  could  easily  see,  as  well  as  hear.  It 
was  evident  that  they  were  all  very  much  in- 
terested, and  full  of  curiosity  to  hear  the  mes- 
sage he  had  for  them. 

They  were  doubtless  well  aware,  that  such  a 
feast  as  had  been  prepared  for  them  meant  a 
talk  at  the  close ;  but  none  of  them  ever 
dreamed  that  Sandy — "  their  Sandy  " — was  to 
be  the  principal  speaker.  When  at  the  close 
he  so  naturally  and  ably  took  control,  they 
were  at  first  amazed,  and  then  delighted,  that 
one  of  their  own  people — and  a  young  man  at 
that — was  not  only  able  to  do  such  a  thing,  but 
was  encouraged  in  the  undertaking  by  the  mis- 
sionary and  his  wife. 

Fearing  that  our  presence  might  embarrass 
Sandy,  my  wife  and  I  moved  our  chairs  back  a 
little  behind  him,  but  still  near  enough  to  hear 
all  that  was  said.  We  were  intensely  interested 
in  the  proceedings,  and  lifted  up  our  hearts  to 
God  that  divine  help  and  guidance  might  be 
given  to  the  one  whom  we  now  loved  to  call 
"  our  Sandy." 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte        121 

A  little  nervousness  that  was  at  first  notice- 
able, disappeared  after  a  few  sentences,  and 
then,  with  a  fluency  and  eloquence  that  simply 
amazed  us,  the  loving  burning  words  flowed 
from  his  lips.  With  few  words  of  explanation 
he  took  up  his  beloved  Bible  and  hymn-book, 
and  began  the  service. 

Of  the  actual'  words  of  that  address,  I  can 
now  recall  very  few  ;  but  the  memory  of  it  will 
live  forever.  He  told  them  the  story  of  his  life 
from  the  time  when,  having  found  my  way  to 
their  distant  land,  I  met  him  in  his  wigwam 
home  as  he  lay  wounded  upon  the  ground, 
talked  kindly  to  him,  and  gave  him  his  first 
lesson.  He  spoke  of  his  long,  long  journey  in 
the  canoe,  and  of  his  arrival  at  our  home.  He 
described  how  kindly  he  had  been  received, 
how  stupidly  and  ungratefully  he  had  acted 
when  the  novelty  of  the  new  way  of  living  had 
worn  off,  and  how  he  had  been  so  foolish  as  to 
long  for  his  old  life  in  the  wigwam.  He  de- 
nounced in  very  emphatic  language,  his  own  in- 
gratitude toward  us  for  all  the  kindness  we 
had  shown  him  and  the  patience  with  which 
we  had  borne  with  his  stupidity. 

Then  he  told  the  story  of  his  conversion: 
would  that  I  could  tell  it  as  he  did  !  He  con- 
trasted their  old  foolish  religion  of  the  con- 
jurers— which  had  only  kept  them  in  fear  and 
terror  all  their  days,  bringing  no  peace  or  rest 


122  On  the  Indian  Trail 

to  their  souls— with  that  which  was  taught  in 
the  blessed  Book ;  which  had  come  as  a  great 
joy  into  his  life,  filling  him  with  peace  in  the 
assurance  that  even  he  was  a  child  of  God.  He 
had  his  date  in  his  spiritual  life — his  well  re- 
membered birthday  ;  and  to  it  he  referred.  He 
told  of  that  afternoon  in  the  church,  when,  in 
response  to  the  invitation :  "  Who  will  give  his 
heart  to  God  to-day  ?  "  he  had  answered,  "  I 
will ! "  and  bowing  down  before  God  in  prayer, 
had  sought  for  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins  and 
the  assurance  of  the  divine  favour.  Very 
clearly,  and  with  much  emotion  he  assured 
them  that,  while  trusting  and  believing  that 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  was  able  and  will- 
ing to  receive  him,  He  had  indeed  received  him. 

Thus  in  earnest  tones,  in  his  beautiful  In- 
dian tongue,  he  went  on  and  on  ;  now,  urging 
and  exhorting  them  to  accept  of  this  great  sal- 
vation from  the  Great  Spirit  who  was  the  lov- 
ing Father  of  all,  and  who  desired  the  salvation 
of  every  one  of  His  children  whether  they  were 
white  or  Indian ;  and  then,  again  referring  to 
his  own  conversion  and  the  joy  that  had  come 
to  him,  as  one  reason  why  he  wished  them  all 
to  be  Christians. 

Mrs.  Young  and  I  were  delighted,  and  also 
amazed  ;  not  only  at  his  readiness  of  utterance, 
but  at  the  religious  character  and  power  of  the 
address.  I  could  only  say  in  my  heart : 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte         123 

"  This  is  the  outcome  of  those  long  hours 
which  this  young  child  of  God  has  spent  day 
after  day  with  the  open  Book  before  him  and 
the  Holy  Spirit  as  his  teacher ;  and,  thank 
God,  here  is  the  glorious  reward  for  all  we  have 
had  to  do  for,  and  bear  with  this  wild  unkempt 
Indian  lad.  In  this  one  glad  hour  we  see 
enough  amply  to  "repay  us  for  all  we  have  had 
to  put  up  with  ere  there  was  the  first  apprecia- 
tion of  our  kindness.  It  has  seemed  a  long 
time  between  the  seed  sowing  and  the  reaping; 
but  the  harvest  time  has  come  at  last  and  here 
we  witness  this  glorious  sight — Sandy,  our 
once  wild  rebellious  Indian  boy,  now  with  radi- 
ant face  and  eloquent  tongue,  in  most  beautiful 
and  scriptural  language,  urging  and  beseeching 
his  Indian  friends  to  renounce  their  old  foolish 
paganism  and  to  accept  of  Christianity." 

As  he  talked  the  faces  of  his  Indian  audi- 
tors were  indeed  studies.  They  were  literally 
drinking  in  his  marvelous  words.  To  a  few  of 
them  I  had  preached  on  some  of  my  long 
journeys ;  but  beside  these  few,  there  were 
those  now  listening  to  Sandy  who  had  never 
heard  such  things  before,  and  they  seemed 
amazed  and  confounded.  Persons  who  have 
never  witnessed  it,  can  hardly  imagine  the  as- 
tonishment, and  sometimes  awe,  that  falls  over 
a  company  of  pure  pagans,  when,  for  the  first 
time,  the  story  of  Redeeming  Love  is  heard. 


124  On  the  Indian  Trail 

Sandy  went  on  to  tell  them  of  his  love  and 
anxiety  for  them,  and  of  his  desire  and  con- 
stant prayers  that  they  should  all  become 
Christians,  and  know  for  themselves  that  God 
loved  them  and  that  they  were  His  children. 
He  explained  to  them,  how,  at  first,  he  thought 
the  Bible  was  only  for  the  white  man  ;  but 
that  he  had  learned,  that  the  Great  Spirit  has 
given  His  Book  to  all  races,  loving  all  alike. 
This  was  the  reason  he  was  so  anxious  that  his 
own  people  should  accept  this  great  salvation 
which  was  for  them.  It  would  make  them 
happy,  as  it  was  making  others  everywhere  who 
fully  accepted  it. 

They  listened  to  the  end  of  his  long  address 
with  intense  interest.  In  response  to  his  re- 
quest, a  number  of  questions  were  asked  in  ref- 
erence to  this  new  way,  and  how  it  was  possible 
for  them  to  enter  into  it.  His  answers  were 
very  appropriate  and  beautiful.  In  addition  to 
his  own  words,  he  again  opened  his  Bible  and 
read  promise  after  promise  to  them,  to  show 
the  universality  of  the  love  of  God,  and  that  he 
had  given  his  Son  to  die  for  them  all,  and  what 
they  must  do  to  receive  this  love  into  their 
hearts. 

At  his  request,  I  followed  with  a  short  ad- 
dress, endorsing  what  he  had  said.  I  lovingly 
entreated  them  to  remember  his  words,  and  to 
do  as  he  had  done — give  their  hearts  to  God ; 


The  Story  of  Sandy  Harte         125 

and  thus  become  His  happy,  loving  children. 
A  hymn  was  sung;  earnest  prayers  were  offered 
up  ;  the  benediction  was  pronounced — and  this 
remarkable  service  came  to  an  end. 

Ere  they  departed  they  gathered  around  Sandy 
and  kissed  him.  They  asked  him  more  questions 
about  this  new  way,  and  with  some  of  them  he 
had  earnest  faitHful  talks.  They  all  came  and 
shook  hands  with  us,  and  very  kindly  thanked 
us  for  our  great  love  and  kindness  to  their  Ooke- 
masis, — the  young  chief, — as  they  now  laugh- 
ingly called  Sandy. 

After  remaining  with  us  some  years,  Sandy 
returned  to  his  own  land  and  people.  Among 
them  he  still  lives  a  devoted,  industrious  Chris- 
tian. He  is  the  right-hand  man  of  the  mission- 
ary, a  blessing  and  a  benediction  to  many,  and 
we  count  it  as  one  of  our  "  chief  joys  "  that  we 
were  instrumental  in  leading  him  into  the  light. 


VII 

THE  NEW  YEAE'S  INDIAN  FEAST 

FKOM  time  immemorial  the  Indians  have  been 
noted  for  the  number  of  their  feasts.  Some  of 
these — as  the  New  Moon  and  the  First-Fruits 
of  the  corn,  celebrated  by  a  part  of  the  tribes — 
were  generally  innocent,  seeming  to  point  to 
some  Jewish  origin  in  the  dim  past ;  others — 
such  as  the  feast  of  the  dog,  when  the  poor 
animals  were  wantonly  torn  to  pieces — were 
loathsome  in  the  extreme. 

As  soon  as  the  missionaries  succeeded  in  get- 
ting the  red  men  to  listen  to  the  Gospel,  they  in- 
sisted upon  the  suppression  of  the  sinful  feasts ; 
especially  as  they  were  more  or  less  associated 
with  their  ideas  of  worship.  Even  the  dog  feast 
was  considered  "good  medicine  "to  propitiate 
the  evil  spirits :  for  the  dogs  were  prized  by  the 
Indian  next  to  his  children,  and  sacrificing  them 
was  making  a  very  great  offering. 

When  the  missionaries  went  among  the  North- 
ern Wood  Crees,  they  met  with  a  great  degree 
of  success  in  winning  the  people  from  their 
pagan  superstitions.  They,  of  course,  insisted 
upon  the  entire  giving  up  of  all  the  objection- 
able habits  and  customs  of  their  past  life  ;  and 
126 


The  New  Year's  Indian  Feast     127 

among  them,  their  sinful  feasts.  However,  they 
did  not  try  to  root  the  word  out  of  their  lan- 
guage ;  but  as  a  substitute  for  what  was  so 
wrong,  organised  a  Christian  festival.  This 
great  feast  was  celebrated  on  New  Year's  day 
— unless  that  day  happened  to  fall  on  Sunday, 
when  it  was  held  on  the  day  following — at  Nor- 
way House,  the  largest  mission  station  in  those 
days. 

Preparations  for  it  were  begun  many  months 
in  advance.  A  great  Indian  council  would  be 
held  at  which,  as  a  mere  formality,  the  question 
would  be  first  asked :  "  Are  we  to  have  the  great 
feast  this  year?  " 

This  would  be  carried  unanimously,  and — • 
for  Indians — with  great  applause.  The  next 
question  which  required  more  time  for  answer- 
ing would  be :  "  What  is  each  man  prepared 
to  give  as  his  contribution  toward  the  feast?" 

Very  strange  at  first  seemed  the  answers. 
Mamanowatum,  a  big  Indian  moose-hunter, 
would  say : 

"  I  have  discovered  the  trail  of  a  moose.  I 
will  give  half  of  the  animal — and  his  nose." 

The  moose  nose  is  considered  a  great  deli- 
cacy. Moose  meat  is  the  best  of  all  venison ; 
and  Mamanowatum  was  a  most  successful 
hunter.  So  this  splendid  contribution,  although 
the  moose  had  yet  to  be  shot,  and  was  hard  to 
kill,  would  be  recorded  with  great  pleasure. 


128  On  the  Indian  Trail 

Then  Soquatum  would  say ;  "  I  have  dis- 
covered a  bear's  den.  I  will  give  half  the  bear 
to  the  feast — and  all  the  paws." 

This  generous  contribution  would  also  meet 
with  much  approval,  for  the  bear's  paws  are 
likewise  among  the  great  delicacies  of  the 
country. 

Mustagan  would  speak  next,  and  would  say  ; 
"I  know  where  there  is  a  large  beaver  house, 
and  I  will  give  five  beavers — and  ten  tails." 

This  donation  would  also  meet  with  great 
satisfaction,  as  beavers  are  capital  eating,  and 
their  great  broad  tails,  together  with  the  moose's 
nose  and  the  bear's  paws,  constitute  the  princi- 
pal delicacies  of  the  country. 

Rapidly  would  the  hunters  rise  up  one  after 
another  and  proffer  their  gifts,  keeping  the  In- 
dian secretary  busily  employed  in  writing  down 
in  syllabic  characters,  the  various  promised  of- 
ferings of  game,  the  greater  quantity  of  which 
would  be  still  roaming — perhaps  hundreds  of 
miles  away — in  the  wintry  forest. 

Those  among  the  hunters  who  excelled  in 
catching  the  valuable  fur-bearing  animals, 
whose  flesh  is  worthless  for  food,  would  make 
their  contribution  in  rich  furs,  such  as  minks, 
martins,  otters  and  ermines,  which  would  be  ex- 
changed in  the  Hudson  Bay  Company's  stores 
for  flour,  tea,  sugar  and  plums. 

The  council  would  last  until  all  who  could 


The  New  Year's  Indian  Feast     129 

give,   or  had  any  remote  idea  of  success,  had 
recorded  their  contributions. 

Shortly  after  would  begin  the  work  of  secur- 
ing the  promised  offerings  for  the  feast.  Even 
the  successful  ones  did  not  always  bring  in 
what  they  had  promised.  Sometimes  those 
who  had  promised  beaver,  would  be  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  meet  with  a  herd  of  reindeer,  and  thus 
would  return  with  their  contribution  in  venison, 
perhaps  four  times  in  excess  of  the  beaver 
promised.  Or  perhaps  the  man  who  promised 
a  couple  of  wild-cats — and  they  are  not  bad 
eating — while  out  diligently  searching  for 
them,  would  detect  the  tiny  ascending  thread 
of  vapoury  steam  from  a  great  snowdrift,  which 
told  him,  that  low  down  there  in  a  den  were 
sleeping  some  fat  bears.  These  would  be  dug 
out,  and  killed,  and  part  of  the  meat  would  be 
brought  in  to  the  feast.  Again  it  sometimes 
happened — as  hunter's  luck  is  very  uncertain — 
that  some  who  promised  a  large  contribution 
were  not  able  to  bring  so  much.  However, 
with  the  donations  from  the  fur-traders  and 
the  mission  house,  there  would  be  a  large  sup- 
ply :  and  this  was  necessary,  as  Indians  have 
good  appetites. 

As  the  different  kinds  of  animals  were  shot 
or  captured,  the  meat  would  be  brought  to  the 
mission,  and  well  secured  from  cunning  dogs  in 
the  large  fish-house,  where  it  would  freeze 

9 


130  On  the  Indian  Trail 

solid,  and  so  keep  in  good  condition  until  re- 
quired. About  a  week  before  the  day  of  the 
feast,  the  missionary's  wife  would  call  to  her 
assistance  a  small  number  of  clever  Indian 
women ;  and,  aided  by  some  men  who  would 
cut  the  frozen  meat  into  pieces  of  suitable  size, 
they  would  roast  or  boil  the  whole  of  this  great 
assortment.  It  was  an  "  assortment,"  and 
proudly  would  they  look  at  it,  and  rejoice.  Out 
of  the  flour,  plums,  sugar  and  bear's  grease — a 
substitute  for  suet — great  plum-puddings  would 
be  made,  hard  and  solid ;  but  the  chunks  cut 
off  with  an  axe,  gave  much  satisfaction  to  the 
hearty  eaters. 

When  the  day  arrived,  preparations  for  the 
feast  began  very  earty.  The  seats  were  re- 
moved from  the  church,  and  tables  the  whole 
length  of  the  interior,  were  quickly  made  and 
put  in  position  by  the  native  carpenters.  Great 
roaring  fires  were  built  in  the  two  iron  stoves, 
and  the  inside  temperature  of  the  building 
made  as  nearly  tropical  as  possible  ;  while  out- 
side it  was  fifty  degrees  below  zero,  or  even 
colder.  This  intense  heat  was  necessary  to 
thaw  out  the  meat,  which,  after  it  had  been 
cooked  a  day  or  two  before,  had  quickly  cooled 
and  frozen  solid.  The  great  supply  was  soon 
carried  into  the  hot  church,  and  after  the  few 
hours  that  elapsed  before  the  feast  began,  it  was 
in  capital  condition  for  the  twelve  or  fifteen 


The  New  Year's  Indian  Feast     131 

hundred  hungry  Indians  who  for  weeks  had 
been  eagerly  looking  forward  to  this  great 
event. 

They  were  a  motley  company,  all  welcome, 
and  all  in  the  best  of  humour.  Chiefs  and  head 
men  were  receiving  directions  from  the  mission- 
ary, transmitting  them  to  the  workers,  and  see- 
ing that  everything  was  done.  Happy  busy 
women,  under  the  loving  guidance  of  the 
missionary's  wife,  whom  they  simply  idolized, 
were  arranging  the  tables,  for  the  equipment 
of  which,  all  the  table  necessaries  of  the  village, 
— principally  tin  cups  and  plates, — as  well  as 
of  the  mission  pantry,  were  brought  into  serv- 
ice. Great  boilers  and  kettles  of  tea  were 
brewed,  and  hundreds  of  flat  cakes,  made  of 
flour,  water  and  a  little  salt,  were  baked  in 
frying  pans  or  on  top  of  the  stoves,  cut  into 
large  pieces,  and  made  ready  for  distribution. 

While  busy  hands  were  thus  employed  in 
making  these  final  arrangements  for  the  great 
feast,  which  generally  began  about  one  o'clock, 
the  hundreds  of  other  Indians— especially  the 
young  men — were  having  various  sports  outside. 
The  toboggan  slides  of  the  schoolboys  had 
many  visitors ;  and  some  lively  games  of  foot 
ball  were  played  on  the  frozen  lake.  The  snow 
had  been  scraped  away  from  a  smooth  bit  of  ice 
where  the  active  skaters  showed  their  speed  and 
skill.  But  the  thoughts  of  all  were  on  the 


132  On  the  Indian  Trail 

feast,  and  they  were  anxious  for  the  sound  of 
the  bell  that  would  summon  them  to  its  enjoy- 
ment. 

About  the  middle  of  the  forenoon,  there  was 
a  most  interesting  break  in  the  preparations. 
The  chief  would  go  to  the  missionary  and  ask 
for  a  pencil  and  piece  of  writing  paper.  Then, 
taking  with  him  one  of  the  principal  men  into 
the  church,  where  the  crowd  of  workers  were 
busily  engaged,  he  would  call  for  a  short  halt 
in  the  proceedings,  and  standing  on  a  bench, 
ask: 

"  How  many  of  our  people  are  sick,  or  aged, 
or  wounded,  and  are  thus  unable  to  be  with  us 
at  the  great  feast  to-day?  Give  me  their 
names." 

As  the  names  were  mentioned,  they  would  be 
recorded,  until,  perhaps,  twenty  or  more  were 
thus  called  out. 

"Any  more?"  the  chief  would  cry.  "Let 
none  be  overlooked  on  this  happy  day." 

"Oh  yes,  there  is  an  old  bed-ridden  woman, 
lying  on  her  couch  of  rabbit  skins  and  balsam 
boughs,  in  a  wigwam  six  miles  up  Jack  River," 
says  one. 

"  I  heard,  that  there  are  two  sick  people  left 
behind  in  a  wigwam  on  the  island  over  near 
York  village  by  the  pagan  Indians  who  have 
come  to  the  feast,"  says  another. 

"  Put  them  down,  of  course.    But  stop !    One 


The  New  Year's  Indian  Feast     133 

of  you  go  out  and  ask  those  who  have  come,  if 
there  are  not  more  than  those  two  left  behind." 

Soon  word  comes  in  that  there  are  not  only 
these  two  sick  ones,  but  a  little  girl  with  a 
broken  leg. 

"  Put  her  name  down,  too." 

The  list  is  again  read  over,  and  the  question 
again  asked : 

"  Are  you  sure  that  we  have  not  overlooked 
any  ?  It  would  be  a  shame  for  us  to  be  here 
feasting,  and  any  of  our  aged  and  afflicted  ones 
forgotten." 

The  matter  would  be  discussed  until  they 
were  confident  that  all  the  names  were  recorded, 
even  the  afflicted  ones  of  the  still  unconverted 
Indians  who  were  always  welcomed  and  gen- 
erally on  hand.  Then  the  chief,  with  an  as- 
sistant or  two  would  go  to  the  great  piles  of 
food,  and  cut  off  generous  pieces  of  venison  and 
bear's  meat,  and,  with  an  assortment  of  other 
things,  make  up  as  many  large  parcels  as  there 
were  names  on  his  list,  each  bundle,  perhaps, 
containing  enough  food  to  last  the  afflicted  ones 
a  couple  of  days.  Then  the  chief  would  go  out 
to  where  the  sturdy  active  young  men  were  at 
their  sports,  and  shouting  the  names  of  as  many 
as  he  had  bundles,  give  to  the  fleetest  a  large 
bundle  and  say : 

"  Take  that  to  Ookoominou,  who  is  sick  in 
bed  six  miles  up  the  river,  and  tell  her  that  we 


134  On  the  Indian  Trail 

are  all  sorry  that  she  is  so  old  and  feeble  that 
she  cannot  be  with  us  to-day.  With  it,  give 
her  our  Christian  greetings  and  love,  and  our 
wishes  that  she  will  enjoy  her  share  of  the 
feast." 

With  a  look  to  see  that  the  strings  of  his 
moccasins  and  his  beaded  garters  are  well  tied, 
and  tightening  his  sash  belt  around  his  leathern 
shirt,  the  swift  runner  would  be  off  like  an  ar- 
row ;  making  straight  for  the  far  away  wigwam, 
where,  in  age  and  feebleness,  is  one  of  the 
grandmothers  of  the  tribe,  now  loved  by  all ; 
but  who  would  have  been  put  to  death  years  ago, 
if  the  blessed  Gospel  had  not  come  among  this 
people  and  wrought  its  marvelous  transforma- 
tions in  their  hearts.  Six  miles  would  that 
fleet  Indian  runner'have  to  go,  and  return,  ere 
lie  could  have  his  share  of  the  feast ;  but  never 
fear,  he  will  be  back  in  time.  What  are  twelve 
miles  to  him,  when  there  is  such  a  feast  at  the 
end  of  it?  And  then,  is  he  not  a  Christian  ? 
And  does  he  not  consider  it  a  joy  to  be  the  car- 
rier of  such  a  bundle,  with  such  a  loving  mes- 
sage, to  the  aged  and  feeble  Ookoominou  ?  Of 
course  he  does. 

Others  similarly  addressed,  and  charged  with 
loving  messages,  are  rapidly  sent  off.  While 
the  majority  of  the  messengers  prefer  to  make 
the  journey  on  flying  feet,  some,  perhaps,  who 
have  bundles  for  three  or  four  in  the  same  vi- 


The  New  Year's  Indian  Feast     135 

cinity,  prefer  to  take  their  fleet  dog-trains.  It 
makes  but  little  difference,  however,  how  they 
go.  They  are  soon  all  off,  and  much  sooner 
back  again  than  we  inexperienced  ones  would 
expect. 

Of  the  great  feast  itself,  it  is  difficult  to  give 
anything  like  an  adequate  description.  The 
tables  are  piled  with  the  various  kinds  of  food, 
the  cups  are  filled  with  tea,  and  all  the  older 
people  first  seated.  Some  years  it  was  custo- 
mary for  the  missionary  to  have  a  large  table 
at  the  head,  to  which  were  invited  the  officials 
of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  and  their  fami- 
lies, and  any  visiting  friends  who  might  be  in 
the  country.  The  chiefs  were  also  given  a  place 
at  this  table,  an  honor  much  appreciated. 
When  all  were  seated,  they  very  heartily  sang 
as  grace  before  meat,  the  Cree  translation  of  the 
verse : 

"Be  present  at  oar  table,  Lord, 
Be  here  and  everywhere  adored  ; 
These  creatures  bless,  and  grant  that  we 
May  feast  in  Paraclise  with  Thee." 

When  the  older  people  had  eaten,  the  tables 
were  quickly  cleared;  then  again  filled  and  re- 
filled, until  all  had  feasted,  and  some  had  even 
returned  "  to  fill  up,"  as  they  said,  some  vacan- 
cies discovered.  What  appetites  they  had ;  and 
what  unrestrained  enjoyment !  No  foreboding 


136  On  the  Indian  Trail 

fears  of  coming  nightmare,  or  fits  of  indigestion, 
disturbed  their  felicity.  Dyspepsia  and  its 
kindred  ills,  had,  up  to  those  times,  never  vis- 
ited that  healthy  hunting  people  ;  and  so,  when 
such  a  feast  of  fat  things  as  this  was  prepared, 
where  they  knew  they  were  all  welcome  guests, 
they  went  in  for  a  good  time  and  had  it  in  full 
measure,  without  any  anxiety  for  after  conse- 
quences. It  was  an  epoch  in  their  history — the 
most  blessed  day  of  the  year.  From  it  some  of 
them  recorded  time,  as  so  many  moons  after  the 
feast ;  and  as  the  year  advanced  they  made  en- 
gagements by  so  many  moons  before  the  next 
feast. 

If  supplies  were  still  abundant  when  the  last 
had  eaten,  the  first  were  set  to  work  again,  until 
the  bear's  ribs  were  all  picked  and  every  haunch 
of  venison  had  disappeared.  Night  was  grandly 
closing  in,  ere  this  stage  in  the  proceedings  was 
reached.  When  it  did  arrive,  willing  hands 
soon  took  down  the  tables,  swept  out  the  build- 
ing, replaced  the  seats,  lighted  the  oil  lamps, 
and  the  intellectual  feast  was  held.  For  years 
Mamanowatum,  whose  familiar  name  was  Big 
Tom,  was  appointed  chairman.  He  was  a  large 
man,  in  fact,  almost  gigantic,  slow  and  de- 
liberate ;  but  he  generally  made  his  mark  in 
everything  he  undertook  to  do  or  say.  It  was 
amusing  to  see  him  in  the  chair,  presiding  over 
a  great  meeting.  He  was  very  much  respected 


The  New  Year's  Indian  Feast     137 

by  all,  and  none  dared  to  presume  on  his  ap- 
parent good  nature.  He  rose  slowly,  seeming 
to  get  up  in  short  jerks ;  but  when  up,  he  had 
something  to  say  and  said  it. 

They  always  opened  every  kind  of  a  meeting 
held  in  the  church  with  religious  exercises. 
Then  Mamanowatum  made  his  address,  always 
good  and  suggestive,  the  keynote  of  which 
was  thanksgiving  and  gratitude  to  God  for  the 
blessings  of  the  year.  When  he  had  finished, 
he  called  on  different  Indians  for  addresses. 
Some  of  them  were  very  good  also.  This  is  the 
night  of  all  others,  when  Indian  orators  try  to 
be  humourous  and  witty.  As  a  race  they  do  not 
excel  along  these  lines,  but  sometimes  they  get 
off  some  very  good  things.  While  they  began 
their  speeches  with  some  bright  pleasantry  that 
brought  smiles,  and  even  laughter,  there  was 
never  anything  unbecoming  to  the  place,  and 
all  quickly  drifted  into  a  strain  of  thanksgiving 
to  God  for  his  blessings.  To  listen  to  their 
grateful  joyous  words,  one  would  think  they 
were  the  most  highly  favoured  people  on  the 
earth ;  that  there  never  was  such  a  feast,  such 
delicious  venison,  such  fat  bear  meat,  such 
strong  tea  with  so  much  sugar  in  it ;  and  that 
no  other  people  had  such  kind  missionaries.  So 
with  more  grateful  hearts  than  ever  they  would 
sing : 

"Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow." 


138  On  the  Indian  Trail 

Thus  they  talked  and  rejoiced  together  in 
this  peculiar  service  which  was  all  their  own. 
The  whites  were  expected  to  take  back  seats 
on  this  occasion  and  say  nothing. 

About  ten  o'clock  they  together  sang  the 
doxology ;  and,  with  the  benediction,  pro- 
nounced by  one  of  their  own  number,  this  most 
interesting  of  days,  with  its  varied  pleasures 
and  enjoyments,  came  to  a  close. 

Long  years  have  passed,  since  with  the 
happy  Crees  we  enjoyed  those  rich  feast  days ; 
yet  they  stand  in  our  missionary  life  as  red- 
letter  days;  when  our  hearts  were  especially 
touched  by  the  spontaneous  and  hearty  kind- 
ness displayed  toward  the  aged  and  afflicted 
ones,  who,  unable  to  be  present,  were  by  the 
generous  gifts  sent,  made  to  feel,  that  they 
were  not  forgotten  or  neglected,  but  were  in  a 
large  measure  made  partakers  of  the  pleasures 
of  that  eventful  day. 


VIII 

THE     EXTRA    DOG-TEAIN     OF     SUPPLIES,    AND 
WHAT   CAME   OF  IT 

"As  you  have  so  many  splendid  dogs  this 
winter,  why  not  take  an  extra  train  with  you, 
and  bring  out  from  Red  River  some  of  the 
food  of  civilisation,  so  that  we  can  have  it  to 
remind  us  of  other  days?" 

Thus  spake  the  good  wife,  who,  like  myself, 
sometimes  became  tired  of  having  the  fresh 
water  fish  of  the  country  as  our  principal  diet 
for  about  one  half  of  the  year.  During  the 
other  six  months  we  lived  principally  upon 
game,  such  as — venison,  bear's  meat,  beaver, 
wild-cat,  ptarmigan,  rabbits  and  even  muskrats. 
So,  this  request  to  bring  out  something  to  eat 
that  savoured  of  civilisation,  was  not  an  unrea- 
sonable one.  I  was  going  in  to  Red  River  set- 
tlement on  business  pertaining  to  the  spiritual 
advancement  of  our  mission,  and  this  was  a 
good  opportunity  to  bring  out  with  me  some 
things  that  would  add  to  our  comfort  and  help 
on  in  the  good  work ;  we  had  to  do  so  many 
things  for  our  poor  Indians,  who  were  often  in 
trouble,  and  were  constantly  looking  to  us  for 
help. 

139 


140  On  the  Indian  Trail 

My  splendid  dogs  obtained  from  Hamilton, 
Montreal  and  elsewhere,  had  increased  and 
multiplied,  until  now  I  had  a  number  of  the 
finest  sleigh  dogs  in  the  country.  When  the 
time  came  for  the  long  trip,  I  harnessed  them 
up;  and,  taking  an  additional  train  for  the 
extra  supply  of  food  which  was  suggested  by 
my  wife,  with  my  guide  and  dog  drivers,  began 
the  journey.  In  order  that  we  could  return 
with  full  loads,  we  started  with  our  sleds  loaded 
with  fish,  numbers  of  which  we  cached  at  our 
different  camping  places,  that  we  might  have 
them  on  which  to  feed  our  dogs  on  the  return 
journey. 

We  were  several  days  on  the  route,  as  we 
encountered  a  fierce  blizzard  which  made  trav- 
eling with  our  heavy  loads  very  difficult. 
However,  we  reached  the  settlement,  and  met 
with  a  warm  welcome  at  the  home  of  our  friend, 
the  Hon.  Mr.  Sifton.  The  business  that  brought 
us  in  to  civilisation  being  soon  arranged,  we 
began  our  purchases  of  supplies  for  the  return, 
special  attention  being  given  to  the  purchase  of 
the  extra  load  of  good  things.  First,  I  went  to 
a  butcher,  and  purchased  from  him  about  two 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of  hi£  choicest  cuts  of 
meat ;  telling  him,  that  as  it  was  to  be  dragged 
by  dogs  on  a  sled  some  hundreds  of  miles,  I 
wanted  as  little  bone  as  possible.  He  was  a 
decent  man  and  treated  me  well.  Then,  I  went 


The  Extra  Dog-train  of  Supplies   141 

to  a  storekeeper,  and  purchased  from  him  rice, 
meal,  butter,  canned  vegetables  and  various 
other  things,  making  in  all,  a  load  of  about  six 
hundred  pounds.  I  was  very  proud  of  such  a 
load,  in  addition  to  the  supply  of  flour  which 
was  on  the  other  sleds.  Sending  my  heavily 
loaded  dog-sleds  on  a  couple  of  days  in  advance, 
I  followed — in  company  with  Martin  Papanekis, 
a  favourite  Indian  driver — with  such  dogs  as 
Voyageur,  as  leader,  and  Jack  and  Cuffy  and 
Ca3sar  behind  him,  knowing  we  would  have  no 
difficulty  in  overtaking  the  rest  of  our  party. 
We  so  arranged  our  return  journey,  that  each 
night  we  reached  the  camp  we  had  used  on  the 
outgoing  trip.  In  two  places,  much  to  our 
disgust,  we  found  that  the  wolves  or  wolver- 
ines, had  been  too  clever  for  us,  and  had  dis- 
covered our  cache  and  devoured  our  fish.  So 
those  nights,  we  had  to  feed  our  dogs  from  the 
supplies  of  meat  bought  in  Red  River. 

In  due  time  we  reached  our  mission  home 
where  there  was  great  satisfaction  over  the 
abundance  and  variety  of  the  supplies  secured 
at  such  a  cost  of  toil  and  danger.  The  bill  of 
fare  was  much  improved,  and  twice  a  week  we 
had  a  little  roast  of  beef  or  mutton,  with  vege. 
tables,  and  a  dessert  of  rice  pudding. 

For  two  or  three  weeks  this  continued,  when 
our  hearts  were  saddened,  and  our  duties  and 
cares  greatly  increased,  by  the  breaking  out  of 


142  On  the  Indian  Trail 

the  measles  among  our  Indians.  This  epidemic 
was  caused,  by  the  coming  in  to  our  country  of 
some  free-traders  who  had  lately  had  the  dis- 
ease. They  had  been  discharged  from  the  hos- 
pital as  cured ;  but  in  some  way  or  other  they 
had  carried  the  germs  of  the  disease  so  that 
going  in  and  out  of  the  wigwams  they  spread 
the  contagion  among  the  natives,  and  an  epi- 
demic broke  out.  This  strange  new  disease 
terrified  the  people. 

At  that  time  I  had  parties  of  Indians  at 
Oomeme  River,  and  also  at  Berens  River,  where 
we  were  then  living.  About  this  same  time  the 
measles  also  broke  out  among  a  number  of  pagan 
Indians  under  the  rule  of  Thickfoot,  a  stub- 
born yet  friendly  old  chief  who  refused  to  be- 
come a  Christian.  At  this  place  we  had  but 
lately  completed  a  mission  house,  some  out- 
buildings, and  a  comfortable  schoolhouse,  which 
we  were  using  as  a  church  until  the  latter 
should  be  completed.  All  the  timber  for  these 
buildings  we  had  drawn  with  our  dogs  from  a 
large  island  several  miles  out  from  the  main- 
land. When  the  measles  broke  out,  and  we  saw 
the  fear  of  the  Indians,  at  once,  as  far  as  possi- 
ble, we  turned  our  mission  premises  into  a  hos- 
pital. In  addition  to  the  buildings  already 
mentioned,  we  also  put  up  for  the  sick  our 
large  buffalo  leather  tent.  Here,  on  improvised 
beds  and  couches,  we  gathered  about  us  the 


The  Extra  Dog-train  of  Supplies   143 

afflicted  ones,  making  them  as  comfortable  as 
our  limited  means  would  allow. 

Over  at  Oomeme  River,  our  Christian  Indians 
fortunately  escaped;  but  the  pagan  Indians, 
among  whom  the  disease  broke  out,  were  wild 
with  fear,  and  in  many  cases  acted  in  a  manner 
to  aggravate  the  disease.  Some  of  them,  when 
they  broke  out,  rushed  from  their  heated  wig- 
wams and  rolled  themselves  in  the  snow,  which 
of  course  was  most  disastrous  treatment,  result- 
ing in  the  death  of  numbers.  Thereupon,  their 
relatives  became  so  terrified,  that,  being  afraid 
to  bury  their  bodies,  they  stripped  the  wigwams 
from  around  them,  leaving  them  exposed  to  the 
devouring  wolves ;  and  then,  sent  word  over  to 
me,  that  if  I  desired  their  friends  to  be  decently 
buried,  I  must  come  over  and  do  it  myself. 
Hearing  this,  I  took  some  boards,  nails,  hammer, 
spades  and  other  things  necessary,  and  with 
some  Indians,  hurried  over  to  the  place.  After 
some  persuasion,  I  succeeded  in  getting  an  In- 
dian family  to  move  their  wigwam  from  the 
spot  where  it  had  stood  the  whole  winter,  and 
where  constantly  the  fire  had  been  burning; 
and  there,  where  the  ground  was  yet  warm  and 
unfrozen,  dug  the  grave,  making  it  sufficiently 
large  for  all  who  had  died.  With  our  boards 
we  made  the  coffins,  and  after  a  simple  religious 
service  buried  their  dead. 

At  Berens  River,  our  method  of  procedure 


144  ^n  ^e  Indian  Trail 

among  our  sick  was  something  like  this.  Early 
in  the  morning,  large  pots  partly  filled  with 
water  were  hung  over  a  good  fire.  Into  them 
were  put  several  pounds  of  the  good  fresh  beef 
or  mutton  which  we  had  brought  from  civilisa- 
tion. When  well  boiled,  several  pounds  of  rice 
were  stirred  in  and  the  whole  left  to  boil  until 
cooked  into  a  rich  nourishing  soup.  Then 
nourishing  flat  cakes  were  made  in  abundance. 
While  this  breakfast  for  the  sick  was  being  pre- 
pared, the  missionary,  with  his  assistants,  was 
busily  engaged  in  making  the  rounds  of  the 
sick.  Their  various  wants  were  attended  to, 
medicine  was  given,  and  every  thing  that  could 
be,  was  cheerfully  done  for  their  comfort.  Then, 
the  missionary's  wife,  with  her  helpers,  followed 
with  kettles  of  warm  soup,  bread  and  tea. 
Meals  of  this  nourishing  food  were  given  to, 
and  much  relished  by,  the  afflicted  ones.  There 
were  some  such  severe  cases,  that  at  times  it 
looked  as  though  it  would  be  impossible  to  save 
them  ;  but  with  heaven's  blessing  on  our  efforts, 
we  were  successful  in  bringing  about  the  re- 
covery of  every  case  under  our  immediate  care. 
While  doing  everything  that  we  could  for 
their  physical  recovery,  we  had  grand  opportu- 
nities for  imparting  religious  instruction.  Sweet 
hymns,  translated  into  their  own  language,  were 
sung,  and  the  exceeding  great  and  precious 
promises  of  the  blessed  Book,  were  often  read 


The  Extra  Dog-train  of  Supplies   145 

and  explained  at  every  bedside.  Their  fear  of 
this  strange  new  disease  left  them,  and  they  be- 
came patient  and  hopeful.  The  result  was,  that 
while  among  the  pagan  Indians  at  Oomeme 
River  there  were  many  deaths,  not  one  of  our 
Christian  Indians  died. 

When  the  last  case  was  cured  and  the  disease 
had  disappeared,. we  took  stock  of  our  supplies. 
We  found  that  all  of  that  extra  dog-train  of  food, 
together  with  a  large  quantity  of  flour  and  other 
things,  had  been  used  up  in  feeding  our  poor 
sick  people.  Not  one-tenth  of  the  whole  had 
come  to  our  own  table ;  and  so  we  had  once 
again  to  fall  back  upon  our  native  food.  Fish 
was  again  our  diet  twenty-one  times  a  week. 
But,  we  had  the  great  joy  and  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that,  in  all  human  probability,  we  had 
saved  the  lives  of  many  of  our  people  ;  and  had 
found  such  a  place  in  their  hearts,  that  our 
future  efforts  to  evangelise  or  to  help  along 
in  the  blessed  life,  would  be  very  much  more 
effective. 


10 


IX 

A  LESSON  NEVER  TO  BE  FOEGOTTEN 

WHEN  I  was  a  small  boy,  my  father  was 
stationed  on  a  large  mission  in  the  back  woods 
of  Canada.  The  hardy  emigrants  from  the  Old 
World  were  crowding  into  that  new  country, 
and  every  year  additional  thousands  of  acres  of 
grain  were  growing,  where  shortly  before  the 
dark  primeval  forests,  which  had  stood  for  cen- 
turies, held  possession. 

The  native  Indian  tribes  were  retreating  be- 
fore this  irresistible  march  of  the  white  man,  or 
were  settling  on  reservations  selected  for  them 
by  the  government.  For  years  they  retained 
their  right  to  roam  about,  and  kill  the  game 
which  still  abounded,  but  which  was  rapidly 
becoming  less  as  the  white  settlements  in- 
creased. In  addition  to  their  hunting  and  fish- 
ing, the  industrious  Indians  added  to  their  com- 
fort by  manufacturing  native  baskets,  brooms, 
handles  for  axes,  hoes  and  similar  articles, 
which  they  sold  to  the  friendly  settlers  for  food 
and  clothing.  Those  that  left  the  fire-water 
alone,  and  were  industrious,  were  thus  able  to 
live  comfortably. 

To  these  Indians  on  their  reservations  the 

146 


A  Lesson  Never  to  be  Forgotten   147 

Gospel  was  proclaimed  by  the  self-sacrificing 
missionaries,  as  they  traveled  their  toilsome 
rounds.  These  visits  were  not  made  in  vain. 
Many  of  these  children  of  the  forest,  sick  and 
dissatisfied  with  their  old  paganism  which  gave 
no  peace  to  their  troubled  spirits,  gladly  re- 
ceived the  truth,  and  became  earnest,  consistent 
Christians.  Their  godly  lives  were,  in  many 
places,  a  constant  reproof  to  the  inconsistencies 
and  sins  of  their  white  neighbours.  At  rare  in- 
tervals in  my  boyhood  days  it  was  my  great 
privilege  to  be  permitted  to  accompany  my 
father  to  some  of  the  Indian  encampments  that 
were  not  very  far  from  our  home.  I  well  re- 
member the  sweet  plaintive  voices  of  the  In- 
dians, as  they  sung  some  of  our  hymns  which 
had  been  translated  into  their  language.  Their 
devout  and  attentive  demeanour  during  the  re- 
ligious services,  deeply  impressed  me.  It  was 
ever  a  great  pleasure  to  visit  them  in  their  wig- 
wams, to  see  the  young  people  at  their  sports, 
and  the  older  ones  at  their  work:  building 
canoes,  or  making  baskets. 

In  my  boyish  curiosity,  I  did  not  confine  my 
rambling  solely  to  the  Christian  Indians;  but, 
as  all  were  very  friendly,  I  wandered  about  the 
encampments  to  the  different  wigwams,  to  see 
what  I  could  that  was  novel  and  interesting. 
Being  known  as  the  son  of  the  Blackcoat — for 
in  this  way  was  the  missionary  designated  by 


148  On  the  Indian  Trail 

the  tribe — I  was  always  welcomed  in  the  wig- 
wams, and  was  given  a  seat  in  the  circle  around 
the  fire. 

In  one  wigwam  the  following  characteristic 
incident  occurred  which  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion on  my  mind.  Seated  on  the  ground  were 
representatives  of  three  generations,  all,  ex- 
cept the  aged  grandfather,  busily  engaged  in 
work,  principally  basket-making.  He  was  a 
patriarchal-looking  old  man,  and,  to  my  youth- 
ful eyes  as  he  sat  there  on  his  blanket  smoking 
his  long  pipe,  seemed  to  be  absorbed  in  thought, 
noticing  neither  me  nor  any  one  else. 

The  youngest  of  the  company,  and  the  one 
that  naturally  attracted  my  attention,  was  a 
young  lad  of  about  my  own  age.  He  was 
busily  engaged  with  an  Indian  crooked  knife, 
endeavouring  to  make  an  arrow.  In  his  eager- 
ness to  succeed,  he  let  his  knife  slip,  and  unfor- 
tunately, cut  himself  very  badly.  At  the  sight 
of  the  blood, — which  flowed  freely,  for  the 
wound  was  an  ugly  one — the  lad  set  up  a  howl 
of  pain  and  alarm,  which  greatly  startled  his 
stoical  relatives.  Relief  was  quickly  afforded, 
the  cut  covered  with  balsam  and  tied  up  in  a 
piece  of  deer  skin.  Not  one  word  of  sympathy 
did  the  boy  receive ;  but  on  the  contrary  from 
nearly  all  in  the  wigwam  arose  a  chorus  of  in- 
dignation and  disgust.  To  them  it  was  a  great 
disgrace  that  one  of  their  family,  and  he  a  boy 


A  Lesson  Never  to  be  Forgotten   149 

of  so  many  winters,  should  howl  and  cry  like 
that,  for  such  a  trifling  injury. 

How  the  other  families  would  laugh  at  them 
when  they  heard  of  it !  It  looked  for  a  time  as 
if  they  would  severely  punish  him  ;  not  for  his 
awkwardness  in  handling  his  knife,  but  because 
he  did  not  control  his  feelings  and  treat  the 
wound  and  the  pain  with  utter  indifference. 

The  old  grandfather  especially,  was  deeply 
stirred  and  indignant  at  conduct  so  unworthy 
of  his  grandson,  to  whom  evidently  he  was 
deeply  attached. 

Indians  very  seldom  punish  their  children. 
Upon  the  boys  especially,  the  rod  is  seldom  used. 
The  girls  in  the  heathen  families  often  have  a 
hard  time  of  it,  being  frequently  knocked  about 
and  beaten ;  but  the  boys  generally  escape,  even 
if  they  richly  deserve  punishment.  Here,  how- 
ever, was  a  very  serious  case.  The  boy  had 
committed  a  crime  in  crying  out  at  an  ordinary 
cut  on  his  hand,  inflicted  by  himself.  It  would 
never  do  to  let  this  pass.  The  lad  must  be 
taught  a  lesson  he  would  never  forget.  And 
this  is  the  way  in  which  it  was  done,  much  to 
my  amazement,  by  his  old  grandfather. 

Placing  near  him  the  lad,  who  evidently  was 
now  feeling  that  he  had  been  very  guilty,  he 
gave  him  a  talk  upon  the  duty  of  bearing  pain 
without  uttering  a  cry,  or  even  a  groan.  Then 
the  old  man,  who  had  been  a  great  warrior  in 


150  On  the  Indian  Trail 

his  younger  days,  told  him,  that  unless  he  were 
more  courageous  than  that,  he  would  never  be- 
come a  brave  warrior  or  a  good  hunter;  and, 
that  unless  he  was  able  to  control  his  feelings, 
arid  never  cry  out  no  matter  what  happened, 
they  could  never  respect  him  any  more  than 
they  would  an  old  grandmother. 

While  the  old  man  talked  excitedly  to  him, 
now  thoroughly  roused  out  of  his  usual  calm 
demeanour,  he  renewed  the  fire  which  had 
partly  burnt  down.  When,  by  the  addition 
of  some  very  dry  wood,  it  was  burning  very 
vigorously,  he  again  turned  quickly  to  his 
grandson,  and  speaking  out  sharply  and  ex- 
citedly, said:  "See  here!  Look  at  me!  This 
is  the  way  a  brave  warrior  should  stand  pain  !  " 
Then,  to  my  horror,  he  suddenly  reached  out 
his  hand,  and  holding  one  finger  in  the  flame, 
kept  it  there  until  it  was  fearfully  burnt. 

During  this  sickening  ordeal,  not  a  muscle  of 
the  old  man's  face  quivered ;  not  a  groan 
escaped  from  his  firmly  set  lips.  To  judge  from 
his  appearance,  it  might  have  been  a  stick  that 
he  was  burning.  When  at  length  he  drew 
back  the  crisp  burnt  finger  of  his  now  blis- 
tered hand,  he  held  it  toward  his  grandson  and 
gave  him  another  lecture,  telling  him  among 
other  things  that  if  he  ever  expected  to  be  great 
or  honoured  among  his  people,  he  must  bear  pain 
without  flinching  or  uttering  a  cry. 


THE  HONEST  INDIAN;   OR,  VENISON  FOR  PEM- 
MICAN 

YEARS  ago  the  missionaries  living  in  the 
northern  part  of  what  were  then  known  as  the 
Hudson  Bay  territories,  were  often  so  remote 
from  civilisation,  that  they  were  obliged  to  de- 
pend principally  on  fish  and  game  for  their 
livelihood.  Hence,  in  times  of  scarcity,  they 
welcomed  the  arrival  of  a  hunter  who  came  in 
with  plenty  of  game. 

One  cold  wintry  day,  a  man  of  this  descrip- 
tion made  his  appearance  at  our  mission  home. 
He  was  a  fine  stalwart  Indian,  and,  in  the  quiet 
way  of  his  people,  came  into  our  kitchen  with- 
out knocking.  Unstrapping  from  his  back  a 
fine  haunch  of  venison,  he  threw  it  down  upon 
the  table.  As  our  supplies  of  food  were  very 
limited  at  the  time — for  we  were  averaging 
hardly  more  than  two  good  meals  a  day — I  was 
glad  to  see  this  welcome  addition  ;  and  so,  after 
I  had  cordially  greeted  him,  I  said : 

"  What  shall  I  give  you  for  this  venison? " 

"  I  want  nothing  for  it,  as  it  belongs  to  you," 
was  his  answer. 

151 


152  On  the  Indian  Trail 

"You  must  be  mistaken,"  I  replied,  "as  I 
never  saw  you  before,  and  have  had  no  deal- 
ings with  you." 

"  Oh,  but  it  does  belong  to  you,  and  I  want 
nothing  more  for  it,"  he  insisted. 

"  Excuse  me,"  I  said,  "  but  you  must  let  me 
pay  you  for  it.  We  are  very  glad  to  get  it,  as 
there  is  little  food  in  the  house;  but  we  have  a 
rule  here,  that  we  pay  the  Indians  for  every- 
thing we  get  from  them." 

The  reason  we  had  come  to  this  determina- 
tion, was  because  we  had  found  by  rather  dear 
experience, — as  we  presume  other  missionaries 
on  similar  fields  have, — that  the  natives  have 
an  idea  the  missionary  is  rich,  or  that  he  is 
backed  up  by  wealthy  churches ;  and,  with  un- 
limited resources  at  hia  disposal,  is  able  to  make 
large  gifts  in  return  for  lesser  ones  received.  A 
few  rabbits,  or  a  brace  of  ducks  would  be  given 
with  great  politeness  to  the  missionary  or  his 
wife.  Then  the  donor,  often  accompanied  by 
his  wife  and  several  children,  would  remain  to 
dinner,  and,  in  all  probability,  eat  the  greater 
part  of  the  gift.  Of  course  they  must  be  asked 
to  supper — and  they  had  glorious  appetites. 
As  they  still  lingered  on  until  time  for  retiring 
arrived,  the  missionary  was  at  length  obliged  to 
hint,  that  he  thought  they  would  better  go  and 
see  if  their  wigwam  was  where  they  left  it  in 
the  morning.  This  would  generally  bring 


The  Honest  Indian  153 

things  to  a  crisis,  and  the  man  would  say: 
"Ever  since  we  came  we  have  only  been  wait- 
ing to  get  the  present  you  are  going  to  give  us 
for  the  one  we  gave  you." 

While  they  were  contented  to  sell  at  a  rea- 
sonable rate  the  various  things  which  they  could 
supply  for  our  needs,  yet,  if  a  present  were  ac- 
cepted, they  expected  something  many  times  its 
value.  Had  this  been  allowed  to  continue,  we 
would  have  been  speedily  left  destitute  of 
everything  in  the  house.  Therefore,  not  many 
weeks  before  the  arrival  of  this  strange  Indian 
with  the  venison,  as  a  precautionary  measure 
we  had  made  a  rule  that  no  more  presents  were 
to  be  received  from  the  Indians ;  but  that  for 
everything  brought  which  we  needed,  such  as 
meat,  fish,  or  moccasins,  there  was  to  be  a  fair 
tariff  price  mutually  agreed  upon.  Yet  in 
spite  of  all  this,  here  was  a  stalwart  Indian  in- 
sisting, that  I  should  receive  a  haunch  of  veni- 
son without  payment.  Judging  from  some  past 
experiences,  I  was  fearful  that  if  I  accepted  it 
as  a  present,  it  would  about  bankrupt  me.  So 
I  again  said  to  him  : 

"  You  must  let  me  pay  you  for  this." 

"  No,  no,"  he  energetically  replied.  "  I  take 
no  pay.  It  belongs  to  you." 

"How  do  you  make  that  out?"  I  inquired, 
more  perplexed  than  ever. 

Then  he  proceeded  to  give  me  his  explana- 


154  On  the  Indian  Trail 

tion,  which  deeply  interested  me,  and  which 
will  also  I  am  sure  interest  my  readers. 

First,  he  began  by  asking  me  a  few  questions: 

"  Did  you  make  a  trip  with  your  guide  and 
dog  drivers  to  Burntwood  River  last  winter?" 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  was  my  answer. 

"And  were  your  dog-sleds  not  heavily 
loaded?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied. 

"And  was  there  not  a  heavy  fall  of  snow 
followed  by  a  blizzard,  which  as  you  had  no 
trail  through  the  deep  snow,  made  it  very  diffi- 
cult traveling?" 

"  Quite  true,"  I  replied,  for  all  had  happened 
just  as  he  was  describing  it. 

"And  did  you  not  at  a  certain  place  make  a 
'  cache '  of  some  of  your  pemmican  and  other 
heavy  things,  so  as  to  lighten  your  loads,  that 
your  dogs  might  make  better  time  ?  " 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  for  well  did  I  remember 
that  long  journey,  and  the  fearful  storm  which 
made  traveling  through  the  trackless  forest 
almost  impossible. 

I  had  gone  on  a  journey  of  several  hundreds 
of  miles  to  carry  the  Gospel  to  some  Indians 
who  were  still  in  the  darkness  of  paganism.  I 
traveled  with  sixteen  dogs  and  four  Indian 
companions,  and  there  was  not  the  least  vestige 
of  a  road.  This  is  the  one  great  drawback ; 
and  any  party  of  hunters,  traders,  or  mission- 


The  Honest  Indian  155 

aries,  wishing  to  travel  with  any  rapidity,  must 
send  one  of  their  number  on  ahead  of  the  dog- 
trams  to  mark  out  the  path  with  his  great  snow 
shoes  as  he  strides  along.  The  skill  and  endur- 
ance with  which  this  work  is  performed,  is 
marvelous  and  almost  incredible  to  those  who 
have  not  witnessed  it.  Often  the  country  for 
days  together  is  tamely  monotonous,  without 
any  striking  feature  in  the  landscape,  and  with- 
out the  least  sign  of  human  footsteps.  Clouds 
may  gather  and  cover  the  whole  heavens  with 
a  sombre  gray  mantle,  so  that  the  white  man 
gets  bewildered  and  does  not  know  south  from 
north,  or  east  from  west.  Yet  the  Indian  guide 
pushes  on  without  hesitancy,  and  with  unerring 
accuracy. 

While  endeavouring  to  push  on  as  rapidly  as 
possible,  we  were  assailed  by  a  fierce  storm. 
The  snowfall  was  so  great,  that,  with  our  heavy 
loads,  speedy  progress  was  an  utter  impossi- 
bility. We  found,  that  we  must  either  lighten 
our  loads,  or  be  content  to  lose  much  valuable 
time  on  the  way.  After  talking  it  over  with 
my  Indians,  we  decided  on  the  former  course, 
and  so,  a  "  cache  "  was  made.  A  number  of 
the  heavier  articles  were  tied  up  in  large 
blankets,  some  saplings  bent  down  by  the  stal- 
wart men,  and  the  bundles  fastened  in  their 
tops.  When  let  go,  the  young  trees  sprang  up, 
and  thus  held  their  loads  so  far  above  the 


156  On  the  Indian  Trail 

ground,  that  they  were  safe  from  the  prowling 
wolves  or  wolverines.  This  plan  is  very  much 
safer  than  that  of  using  large  trees,  as  up  the 
latter  many  of  the  wild  animals  can  climb,  and 
short  work  would  be  made  of  the  "  cache." 

With  lightened  sleds — although  some  of  the 
things  left  behind  were  sadly  missed — we  hur- 
ried on,  and  after  a  few  days  reached  our  desti- 
nation. We  found  the  majority  of  the  Indians 
glad  to  see  us,  and  anxious  for  instruction  in 
the  ways  of  the  great  Book.  They  had  be- 
come dissatisfied  with  the  ways  of  their  fathers, 
and  had  lost  all  faith  in  their  conjurers,  so  they 
listened  with  great  attention  to  what  we  had  to 
tell  of  the  Gospel  of  the  Son  of  God. 

While  we  were  thus  engaged  in  our  missionary 
duties,  blizzards  were  raging  through  that  cold 
northland ;  so  that  when  we  began  the  long 
home  journey,  we  discovered  but  few  traces  of 
the  trail,  which  our  snow  shoes  and  dog-trains 
had  made  not  very  long  before.  However,  my 
guide  was  very  clever,  and  my  splendid  dogs 
most  sagacious,  so  we  traveled  home  most  of 
the  way  on  the  same  route,  even  though  the 
original  path  was  deeply  buried  by  the  snow. 

The  place  where  our  cache  had  been  made 
was  duly  reached;  and  glad  enough  were  we  to 
obtain  the  additional  supplies  it  contained,  for 
we  had  been  on  short  allowance  for  some  time. 
The  strong  arms  of  my  Indians  soon  bent  down 


The  Honest  Indian  157 

the  saplings,  untied  the  bundles  and  consigned 
them  to  the  different  dog-sleds.  To  my  sur- 
prise, I  observed,  that  at  one  of  the  bundles — 
the  heaviest  article  in  which  had  been  a  piece 
of  pemmican  weighing  perhaps  fifty  or  sixty 
pounds — my  men  were  talking  and  gesticulat- 
ing most  earnestly.  In  answer  to  my  inquiries, 
they  said,  that  that  bundle  had  been  taken 
down  during  our  absence,  and  a  piece  of  pem- 
mican had  been  cut  off  and  taken  away. 

"  Nonsense  !  "  I  replied.  "  You  are  surely 
mistaken.  It  looks  to  me  just  as  it  was  when 
we  put  it  up.  And  then  there  was  not  the 
vestige  of  a  track  here  when  we  returned." 

However,  in  spite  of  my  protestations,  my 
men  were  confident  that  some  pemmican  had 
been  taken  by  a  stranger,  and  that  the  blizzard 
had  covered  up  the  tracks.  With  a  little  more 
discussion  the  matter  was  dropped,  and  after  a 
good  meal  we  proceeded  on  our  way. 

Months  later,  along  came  this  strange  Indian 
with  the  venison  and  his  story,  which  we  will 
now  let  him  finish: 

"  I  was  out  hunting  in  those  forests  through 
which  you  passed  :  for  they  are  my  hunting 
grounds.  I  found  the  trail  of  a  moose,  and  for 
a  long  time  I  followed  it  up,  but  did  not  suc- 
ceed in  getting  a  shot.  I  had  poor  success  on 
that  hunting  trip.  Shooting  nothing  for  some 
days,  I  became  very  hungry.  While  pushing 


158  On  the  Indian  Trail 

along  through  the  woods,  I  came  across  your 
trail  and  saw  your  cache.  So  when  I  saw  it 
was  the  missionary's  cache,  the  friend  of  the 
Indian,  I  was  glad,  and  I  said  to  myself,  If  he 
were  here,  and  knew  that  I  was  hungry,  he 
would  say :  *  Help  yourself :' — and  that  was 
just  what  I  did.  I  pulled  down  a  sapling,  and 
opening  the  bundle,  cut  off  a  piece  of  pemmi- 
can — just  enough  to  make  me  feel  comfortable 
under  my  belt  until  I  could  reach  my  wigwam, 
far  away.  Then  I  tied  up  the  bundle,  fastened 
it  in  the  treetop,  and  let  it  swing  up  again. 
And  now  I  have  brought  you  this  venison,  to 
pay  for  that  pemmican  which  I  took." 

Honest  man !  He  had  carried  the  haunch  of 
venison  on  his  back,  a  distance  of  about  sixty 
miles. 

Of  course  I  was  delighted,  and  while  com- 
plimenting him  for  his  honesty,  inquired  how 
he  knew  that  it  was  my  party  that  had  made 
the  cache,  rather  than  a  party  of  Indian  hunters. 

Without  any  hesitancy  he  replied :  "  Oh  I 
saw  your  snow  shoe  tracks  in  the  snow." 

"  Impossible  !  "  I  answered ;  "  for  the  snow 
shoes  used  by  the  whole  party  were  made  by 
Sandy,  my  Indian  boy,  and  were  all  of  one 
pattern." 

"  That  no  matter,"  he  answered,  while  his 
eyes  twinkled  with  amusement.  "  Snow  shoes 
all  right,  but  I  saw  your  tracks  all  the  time. 


The  Honest  Indian  159 

When  Indian  walk,  he  walk  with  toes  in  ;  when 
white  man  walk,  he  walk  with  toes  out.  So  I 
saw  where  the  missionary  make  tracks  all  the 
time." 

We  all  voted  him  a  clever,  as  well  as  an 
honest  Indian,  and  rejoiced  that  under  the 
faithful  teachings  of  another  missionary,  this 
red  Indian  of  the  forest,  had  been  so  grounded 
in  the  lessons  of  the  sermon  on  the  mount. 


XI 

THE  VINDICATION  OF  THE  SABBATH 

WHEN  the  missionaries  go  among  the 
heathen  preaching  the  blessed  Gospel  of  the 
great  Book,  they  necessarily  have  to  begin 
with  first  principles.  When  good  impressions 
have  been  made,  and  hearts  touched,  then 
follows  religious  instruction  in  matters  of  which 
they  have  been  perfectly  ignorant;  and  much 
that  is  false,  and  often  very  childish,  has  to 
be  unlearned. 

To  these  people,  before  the  arrival  of  the 
missionary,  the  Sabbath  was  utterly  unknown. 
The  preaching  of  it  at  first  filled  them  with 
perplexity  and  trouble.  They  thought  that  it 
would  interfere  with  their  plans,  and  so  break 
up  their  hunting  arrangements  as  to  bring 
them  to  absolute  want.  They  were  poor,  even 
though  working  and  fishing  every  day ;  and  to 
give  up  one  day  out  of  every  seven,  and  not 
fire  a  gun,  or  set  a  net — what  would  become  of 
them  !  Thus  argued  some  of  the  Indians. 

Faithfully  and  lovingly  the  missionaries  set 
before  them  the  commands  of  God  adding  the 
promises  of  blessings  to  the  obedient.  The 
Book  itself  was  diligently  searched,  and  there 

160 


The  Vindication  of  the  Sabbath    16 1 

was  a  great  desire  to  know,  if  such  passages  as 
the  one  we  here  quote,  referred  to  white  people 
and  Indians  now:  "If  thou  turn  away  thy  foot 
from  the  Sabbath,  from  doing  thy  pleasure  on 
my  holy  day,  and  call  the  Sabbath  a  delight, 
the  holy  of  the  Lord,  honourable :  and  shalt 
honour  him  not  doing  thine  own  ways,  nor  find- 
ing thine  own  pleasure,  nor  speaking  thine  own 
words,  then  shalt  thou  delight  thyself  in  the 
Lord,  and  I  will  cause  thee  to  ride  upon  the 
high  places  of  the  earth,  and  feed  thee  with  the 
heritage  of  Jacob  thy  father ;  for  the  mouth  of 
the  Lord  hath  spoken  it." 

At  last,  under  faithful  teaching,  aided  by  the 
blessed  Spirit,  the  Christian  Indians  resolved 
to  take  the  Book  for  their  guide,  and  to  keep 
the  Sabbath  day.  At  once,  the  guns  and  bows 
and  arrows  were  put  aside,  and  the  fish-nets 
were  left  hanging  in  the  breeze  for  that  day. 
No  traps  were  visited,  neither  were  the  axes 
lifted  up  against  the  trees.  Their  simple  meals 
were  cooked  and  eaten,  and  all  who  could  at- 
tend, were  found  in  the  house  of  God  three 
times  each  Sabbath. 

But  now  arose  fierce  opposition  from  an  un- 
expected quarter.  The  great  fur-trading  com- 
pany that  had  for  so  long  a  time  held  despotic 
power  in  the  land,  in  their  short-sightedness, — 
fearing  a  diminution  in  the  returns  of  the  fur 
by  the  hunters  if  one-seventh  of  the  time  was 
11 


162  On  the  Indian  Trail 

to  be,  as  they  put  it,  spent  in  idleness, — sneered 
at  the  actions  of  the  missionaries,  and  by  bribes 
and  threats,  endeavoured  to  induce  the  Indians 
to  ignore  their  teachings  on  the  subject. 

When  the  summer  tripping  began,  and  the 
Indians  refused  to  travel  or  work  in  the  boats 
on  the  Sabbath,  the  action  of  the  company  de- 
veloped into  downright  persecution.  Some 
description  of  this  "  tripping "  in  that  great 
wild  northland  is  necessary,  in  order  that  our 
readers  may  understand  the  position  taken  by 
the  Sabbath-keeping  Indians,  and  its  most  sat- 
isfactory results. 

So  remote  from  the  seaboard  are  some  of  the 
interior  posts  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company, 
that  seven  years,  and  sometimes  more  elapsed, 
ere  the  furs  obtained  for  the  goods  sent,  could 
reach  the  London  market.  The  bales  of  goods 
were  first  shipped  by  the  company's  vessels  to 
York  factory,  on  the  Hudson  Bay.  Then  they 
were  taken  by  the  Indian  trippers  in  strong 
boats  that  would  hold  from  three  to  five  tons. 
A  number  of  these  boats  constituted  a 
*'  brigade."  A  captain  of  the  whole  was  ap- 
pointed, and  a  good  state  of  discipline  main- 
tained. 

The  first  brigade  would  take  the  bales  up  the 
rivers,  often  having  to  pass  many  dangerous 
places  and  encounter  many  risks.  Great  care 
and  watchfulness  were  necessary,  and  yet  in 


The  Vindication  of  the  Sabbath    163 

spite  of  all,  boats  were  sometimes  wrecked  and 
lives  lost.  The  hardest  part  of  the  work  was 
in  what  was  called,  "  making  the  portages." 
Some  of  the  rivers  are  full  of  falls  and  rapids 
that  are  impassable  for  the  boats.  Here  the 
portages  have  to  be  made.  The  hardy  boat- 
men row  up  to  the  rapids  as  close  as  is  safe, 
unload  their  cargoes,  and  carry  them  on  their 
backs  to  the  selected  spot  below  the  obstruc- 
tion in  the  river.  Then  the  boats  have  to  be 
hauled  ashore,  and  dragged  overland  by  the 
united  strength  of  the  several  crews  to  the 
same  place ;  here  they  are  again  launched, 
and  with  cargoes  aboard,  the  journey  is  re- 
sumed. On  some  of  these  trips  the  number  of 
portages  runs  up  into  the  scores.  Great  lakes 
have  to  be  crossed  where  fierce  storms  at  times 
rage,  and  where  head-winds  blow  with  such 
fury,  that  sometimes  the  brigades  are  delayed 
many  days. 

At  Norway  house, — which  for  many  years 
was  the  great  northern  depot  for  the  company's 
goods,  and  the  great  distributing  centre  for  the 
interior  parts, — this  first  brigade  would  ex- 
change its  cargo  of  goods  for  the  bales  of  rich 
furs  which  another  brigade,  that  had  come  from 
the  further  interior,  perhaps  from  Athabasca  or 
the  Saskatchewan  country,  had  brought  down 
thus  far  on  their  way  to  the  ships  for  the 
London  market.  Then  this  second  brigade 


164  On  the  Indian  Trail 

would  return  hundreds  of  miles  into  the  in- 
terior ;  and,  meeting  another  brigade  from  re- 
gions still  more  remote,  would  exchange  its 
cargo  of  goods  with  this  third  brigade,  for  re- 
gions yet  more  distant.  Thus  it  would  go  on, 
until  some  of  the  bales  of  goods  were  more 
than  three  thousand  miles  from  the  seaboard 
where  they  were  landed;  and  the  different 
posts  had  their  supply  of  goods  for  the  fur 
trade  with  the  Indians.  So  it  happened,  that 
years  elapsed  ere  the  goods  reached  some  of  the 
places ;  and  the  furs  also  were  years  in  reach' 
ing  the  ship  for  England. 

All  of  this  heavy  work  was  performed  by  the 
Indian  boatmen,  or  "  trippers,"  as  they  were 
called.  They  were  the  fur-hunters  during  the 
cold  winter  months ;  but  so  long  as  there  was 
ppen  water — that  is,  no  ice — they  were  em- 
ployed by  hundreds  to  take  in  goods  and  bring 
out  furs. 

The  one  despotic  command  delivered  to  these 
brigades  by  the  company  was,  "  push  on !  " 
They  argued :  The  summer  in  these  high  lati- 
tudes is  short ;  we  must  make  the  most  of  it. 
Every  day  tells,  and  there  must  be  no  lagging 
by  the  way.  The  result  was,  that  the  men  were 
worked  to  the  last  degree  of  endurance.  Many 
failed  at  the  oar,  while  others  dropped  under 
the  heavy  loads  on  the  difficult  portages.  Fill 
up  the  ranks  quickly,  and  push  on  !  was  the 


The  Vindication  of  the  Sabbath    165 

order.  It  was  all  excitement,  and  rush,  and 
high  pressure,  from  the  beginuing  of  the  trip- 
ping season  until  the  close.  There  was  no  re- 
laxation— no  Sabbath — no  rest. 

It  seemed  utter  folly  for  the  missionary  to 
come  in  where  such  a  condition  of  things  ex- 
isted, and  say  to.  the  best  men  of  the  best  bri- 
gade :  "  We  know  the  summer  is  short,  and  it 
is  essential  for  the  welfare  of  the  company  and 
your  own  wages,  that  the  goods  should  be  taken 
in,  and  the  furs  brought  out.  But  a  Higher 
Power  has  said,  *  Remember  the  Sabbath  day  to 
keep  it  holy,'  so  when  Saturday  night  overtakes 
you,  tie  up  your  boats,  lay  aside  your  oars,  and 
rest  in  quietness  and  devotion  until  God's  day 
is  over." 

The  company  in  their  blindness  were  at  first 
astounded,  then  enraged.  To  lose  one-seventh 
of  the  short  summer,  when,  as  it  was,  the  bri- 
gades were  sometimes  caught  by  the  ice,  would 
never  do !  This  fanaticism  must  be  stopped ! 
They  threatened — they  persecuted  the  mission- 
ary and  the  Indians.  Their  monopoly  in  the 
country  gave  them  great  power,  and  they 
wielded  it  unmercifully.  Unable  to  induce  the 
missionary  by  bribes  or  threats  to  take  another 
stand,  they  resorted  to  persecution ;  and  by  cal- 
umnies most  foul,  strove  to  destroy  his  good 
name,  and  to  drive  him  out  of  the  country. 

He  was  a  wise  and  judicious,  as  well  as  a 


166  On  the  Indian  Trail 

brave  man ;  and,  standing  at  his  post,  en- 
deavoured to  show  his  rich  and  powerful  detrac- 
tors, that  no  harm  would  come  to  them  by  their 
employees  resting  one  day  in  seven.  He  bravely 
declared,  that  a  man  could  do  more  work  in  six 
days  by  resting  the  seventh,  than  by  working 
continuously ;  and  he  challenged  them  to  the 
test. 

At  first  the  statement,  which  had  been  so 
conclusively  proved  to  be  true,  was  laughed  to 
scorn.  However,  as  the  missionary  and  his 
Christian  Indians  remained  true,  the  company 
were  obliged  to  yield  so  far  as  to  send  off  a 
Sabbath-keeping  brigade,  which  they  did  with 
many  fears  and  misgivings.  To  their  surprise, 
they  did  their  work  just  as  well,  and  returned 
in  less  time,  with  the  men  in  better  health  than 
those  who  knew  no  Sabbath.  The  logic  of 
actual  success  triumphed  eventually.  All  op- 
position ceased,  and  up  to  the  time  when  the 
old  order  of  things  came  to  an  end,  and  oars 
gave  way  to  steam  power,  no  one  was  found 
rash  enough  to  question  the  ability  of  the  Sab- 
bath-keeping Indians  to  excel  in  work  those 
who  kept  not  the  day  of  rest. 

I  often  traveled  with  those  Christian  Indians, 
and  the  Sabbaths  spent  on  these  long  trips,  are 
sweet  and  happy  memories.  Up  to  the  last 
hour  on  Saturday  when  it  was  safe  to  travel, 
the  journey  would  be  pursued,  until,  in  some 


The  Vindication  of  the  Sabbath     167 

quiet  harbour  or  cosy  bend  in  the  river,  safe 
from  sudden  storms  or  tornadoes,  the  boats 
would  be  securely  fastened,  and  the  cargoes 
carefully  covered  with  the  oilcloths.  After  a 
supper  cooked  on  the  rocks,  all  would  gather 
around  the  bright  camp-fire  for  the  evening  de- 
votions. A  hymn  would  be  sung,  a  chapter  of 
the  good  Book  read,  and  prayer  offered  by  one 
or  two  of  the  company.  The  Sabbath  would 
be  spent  quietly  and  restfully,  with  at  least  two 
impressive  and  simple  services.  On  Monday, 
at  first  blush  of  morn,  we  were  up,  and,  after 
a  hasty  meal  and  a  prayer,  the  journey  would 
be  resumed  with  renewed  vigour. 

Thus  was  the  Sabbath  introduced  among  the 
northern  Indians. 


XII 

GOD    MOKE     POWERFUL  THAN  THE   CONJURER 

THE  following  beautiful  story  deserves  a 
place  among  the  very  many  real  answers  to 
prayer.  Still  does  the  Lord  say  to  his  follow- 
ers: "I  will  yet  for  this  be  inquired  of  by  the 
house  of  Israel,  to  do  it  for  them." 

Our  Indian  converts  believe  in  God.  With 
a  simple,  childlike  faith  they  take  him  at  his 
word.  One  of  our  Indians  at  his  baptism,  re- 
ceived the  English  name  of  Edmund  Stephen- 
son.  He  was  an  earnest,  simple  Christian.  His 
religion  made  him  industrious,  and  so  by  his 
diligent  hunting  and  fishing  he  provided  com- 
fortably for  his  wife  and  two  little  ones. 

One  evening,  about  the  middle  of  last  Octo- 
ber, he  left  his  family  at  his  little  home  at  Nor- 
way House,  and  started  up  a  rapid  river  to  visit 
some  of  his  relatives,  who  lived  several  miles 
away.  In  those  high  latitudes  the  cold  winter 
sets  in  so  early  that  already  the  river  was  cov- 
ered with  ice.  To  make  the  trip  much  quicker 
he  fastened  on  his  skates,  and  when  last  seen, 
was  speeding  rapidly  away  in  the  evening  twi- 
light. 

He  did  not  return  the  next  day  as  he  had 
168 


God  More  Powerful  than  Conjurer    169 

promised,  and  his  family  becoming  alarmed, 
sent  an  Indian  messenger  to  inquire  the  reason. 
To  his  surprise  he  was  informed  by  the  friends, 
that  Edmund  had  not  visited  them  and  they 
knew  not  of  his  whereabouts.  When  these 
tidings  were  carried  home  there  was  great  alarm, 
and  a  search  party  was  quickly  organised. 
From  the  point  where  he  was  last  seen  alive, 
they  carefully  examined  the  ice,  and,  after  a  lit- 
tle time,  discovered  the  most  conclusive  evi- 
dence that  the  poor  man  was  drowned. 

Over  a  part  of  the  river  where  the  current  is 
very  rapid,  they  discovered  that  the  ice  had 
been  broken  through ;  and  although  all  was 
now  again  firmly  frozen  over,  yet,  in  the  con- 
gealed mass,  they  discovered  one  of  Edmund's 
deer-skin  gloves,  a  button  of  his  coat,  and  other 
evidences  that  he  had  here  fallen  through  the 
ice,  and  had  made  a  most  desperate  effort  to 
escape.  As  it  was  nearly  dark  when  the  search- 
ers made  these  discoveries  as  to  the  place  and 
manner  of  his  death,  they  were  obliged  to  be 
satisfied  with  this,  and  to  postpone  the  search 
for  the  body  until  the  next  day. 

Early  the  next  morning  they  set  to  work  dili- 
gently. As  much  snow  had  fallen  since  the 
previous  evening,  they  were  very  much  ham- 
pered in  their  efforts ;  and,  although  a  large 
number  of  men,  with  snow  shovels,  axes  and 
grappling  irons,  sought  carefully  in  many  places 


170  On  the  Indian  Trail 

for  the  remains,  several  days  passed,  and  they 
were  still  unsuccessful  in  their  efforts. 

Among  the  searchers  were  some  Indians  who 
still  believed  in  the  skill  and  supernatural  pow- 
ers of  the  conjurers,  or  medicine  men.  These, 
having  become  discouraged  in  their  efforts,  re- 
solved to  consult  one  of  these  old  men,  so  they 
said : 

"Let  us  go  and  consult  old  Kwaskacarpo, 
and  get  him  to  conjure  for  us,  and  tell  us  where 
to  find  the  body." 

The  Christian  Indians  protested  against  this, 
and  tried  to  dissuade  them ;  but  to  no  purpose, 
they  were  so  discouraged  in  their  efforts.  So 
they  carried  gifts  of  tea  and  tobacco  to  the  con- 
jurer, and  told  him  of  the  object  of  their  com- 
ing. In  response  to  their  wishes,  and  in  return 
for  their  gifts,  he  took  his  sacred  drum  and 
medicine-bag  into  the  tent,  drummed  away 
noisily  until  he  worked  himself  up  into  a  kind 
of  frenzy  or  delirium,  and  then  told  them  where 
to  cut  the  ice  and  drag  for  the  body  of  their 
dead  comrade. 

When  the  Christian  Indians  heard  that  these 
others  had  gone  to  the  conjurer  for  help,  they 
were  very  much  grieved.  One  especially,  a 
grand  old  man  by  the  name  of  Thomas  Mus- 
tagan,  was  very  much  depressed  in  spirit. 
While  feeling  deeply  the  loss  of  Edmund,  he 
was  very  much  hurt  when  the  news  reached 


God  More  Powerful  than  Conjurer    171 

him,  that  some  of  the  searchers  instead  of  go- 
ing to  God  in  their  perplexity  and  trouble,  had, 
like  King  Saul,  resorted  to  such  disreputable 
agencies. 

No  sooner  had  he  received  this  news,  than  he 
resolved  to  adopt  a  very  different  course.  Get- 
ting his  wife  to.  cook  a  quantity  of  food,  he 
carried  it,  with  some  kettles  of  tea,  to  a  spot  on 
the  shore  near  to  where  the  men  were  diligently 
searching  for  the  body. 

Clearing  away  the  snow  he  made  a  fire ;  and, 
when  the  tea  was  prepared,  called  the  hungry 
and  almost  discouraged  men  around  him,  and 
made  them  eat  his  food  and  drink  his  tea. 

Then  he  talked  to  them  of  the  one  living  and 
true  God,  and  of  His  power  to  hear  and  answer 
prayer.  He  spoke  of  the  foolishness  and  wick- 
edness of  those,  who,  having  heard  about  Him, 
had  gone  and  consulted  the  wicked  old  conjurer. 

"  Let  us  go  to  that  God  about  whom  we  have 
been  taught  by  our  missionaries.  He  is  the  one 
to  help  us  in  our  trouble." 

With  the  people  all  around  him,  he  kneeled 
down  in  snow,  and  earnestly  and  reverently 
asked  God  to  hear  and  help  them  in  their  sor- 
row and  perplexity.  He  prayed  that  wisdom 
might  be  given  them,  so  that  they  might  find 
the  body  of  their  dear  friend  lying  somewhere 
in  that  cold  river ;  that  they  might  take  it  up, 
and  bury  it  in  their  little  village  graveyard. 


172  On  the  Indian  Trail 

He  asked  God  very  earnestly  to  comfort  the 
poor  sorrowing  widow  and  the  little  helpless 
children.  Thus  with  believing  faith  did  this 
venerable  old  Indian  of  more  than  fourscore 
winters,  call  upon  God. 

When  they  arose  from  their  knees  he  said : 
"Now  trusting  in  God  to  answer  us,  let  us  go 
to  work." 

On  account  of  the  quantity  of  snow  that  had 
fallen  on  the  ice,  they  had  first  to  scrape  it 
away,  and  then  use  their  judgment  about  where 
to  cut  through  the  ice,  and  drag  for  the  bod}-. 
Although  Thomas  was  so  old  a  man,  he  now 
seemed  the  most  alert  and  active  of  the  party. 
By  common  consent,  he  was  given  charge  of  the 
party  of  Christian  Indians,  who  now  worked 
diligently  under  his  direction. 

In  the  meantime,  the  old  conjurer  Kwaska- 
carpo  in  a  confident  voice  told  his  followers, 
that  he  had  conjured,  and  the  answer  was,  that 
they  were  to  cut  the  ice  in  a  certain  designated 
place. 

Paying  no  attention  to  him  or  his  party,  the 
Christian  Indians  worked  away,  and  as  fast  as 
the  ice  was  cleared  of  snow,  Thomas  looked 
through  as  well  as  he  could. 

All  at  once  he  arose  quickly  from  a  spot  of 
semi-transparent  ice  which  he  had  been  care- 
fully examining,  and  calling  to  the  men  with 
the  axes  and  ice-chisels,  he  said: 


God  More  Powerful  than  Conjurer    173 

"  Try  here." 

Soon  they  had  a  large  hole  cut,  the  grappling 
irons  were  brought  into  use,  and  there  hundreds 
of  yards  from  the  place  where  the  conjurer  had 
directed  his  followers  to  look  for  it,  the  body 
was  found. 

Thomas,  while  intently  searching  through  the 
ice,  had  seen  on  the  under  surface  at  that  place 
a  quantity  of  air  bubbles.  The  thought  came 
to  him,  that  here  the  body  had  rested,  and  the 
last  air  from  the  lungs  had  escaped  and  formed 
these  bubbles.  He  had  asked  for  wisdom  and 
divine  direction  and  he  was  not  disappointed ; 
for  in  less  than  an  hour  after  these  pious  In- 
dians had  been  on  their  knees  in  earnest  prayer, 
the  body  of  their  comrade  was  being  borne 
away  to  his  home,  and  from  thence  to  its  final 
resting  place  in  the  "  God's  Acre  "  of  the  little 
Christian  village. 


XIII 

BETSY,  THE  INDIAN  WIFE 

SHE  was  not  a  bad  looking  woman,  but  she 
had  such  a  sorrowful  face  that  never  seemed  to 
have  on  it  a  smile.  Mrs.  Young  and  I  had 
both  noticed  this,  and  had  spoken  to  each  other 
about  it.  Her  name  was  Betsy.  She  was  the 
wife  of  an  Indian  whose  name  was  Atenou,  but 
who,  when  baptized,  had,  like  most  of  his 
countrymen,  asked  for  the  addition  to  it  of  an 
English  name,  and  so  was  known  as  Robert 
Atenou.  His  record  seemed  to  be  that  of  a 
quiet,  industrious  sort  of  an  Indian,  who  fished 
and  hunted  as  did  the  rest,  and  gave  trouble  to 
none.  As  he,  like  many  of  his  people,  was 
gifted  with  readiness  of  utterance,  and  was 
very  faithful  in  his  attendance  at  all  of  the  re- 
ligious services,  and  seemed  to  be  living  a 
godly  life,  he  had  been  given  an  official  posi- 
tion in  the  church,  which  he  very  much  appre- 
ciated. 

It  was  noticed  however,  that  Robert's  ad- 
vancement in  the  church,  did  not  seem  to  re- 
move the  cloud  that  was  on  his  wife's  face. 
While  the  other  women  were  so  bright  and 
happy  and  thankful  at  the  change  which 
174 


Betsy,  the  Indian  Wife  175 

Christianity  had  brought  into  their  lives,  and 
were  at  times  not  slow  in  speaking  about  it, 
she  was  a  very  marked  exception. 

Not  wishing  to  pry  into  her  affairs,  while 
perplexed,  we  were  obliged  for  a  time  to  re- 
main in  the  dark,  and  could  only  conjecture  as 
to  the  cause. 

Perhaps  the  most  marvelous  and  conspicuous 
evidence  of  the  blessedness  of  the  Gospel,  next 
to  its  divine  power  in  the  salvation  of  the  soul, 
is  to  be  seen  in  the  glorious  way  in  which  it  up- 
lifts women.  Sad  indeed  is  the  condition  of 
women  in  lands  unreached  by  the  blessed  in- 
fluences of  Christianity.  He  whose  wonderful 
and  tender  love  for  His  mother,  and  for  the 
goodly  women  who  ministered  to  Him,  was  so 
manifested  when  He  walked  this  earth  of  ours, 
is  Jesus  still.  And  wherever  His  name  is  suc- 
cessfully proclaimed,  and  hearts  opened  to  re- 
ceive Him,  there  at  once  is  a  glorious  uplifting 
of  woman  from  a  condition  of  inferiority  and 
degradation,  into  one  where  she  is  honored  and 
respected. 

The  northern  Indian  tribes  on  this  continent, 
while  not  very  warlike,  or  much  in  the  habit  of 
going  after  the  scalps  of  their  enemies,  had 
other  crimes  and  sins,  which  showed  that  they 
were  fallen  and  sinful,  and  much  in  need  of  the 
Gospel.  Among  the  defects  and  wickednesses 
of  the  men,  was  the  almost  universal  contempt 


176  On  the  Indian  Trail 

for,  and  cruelty  to  the  women.  If  a  man 
spoke  or  acted  kindly  to  his  wife,  or  mother,  or 
daughter,  it  was  by  them  considered  a  sign  of 
weakness  and  effeminacy.  To  be  harsh  and 
cold  toward  the  women,  was  supposed  to  be  one 
of  the  signs  of  the  ideal  Indian  toward  which 
they  were  ever  striving.  All  manual  labor, 
apart  from  hunting  and  fishing,  was  considered 
degrading  to  be  left  to  the  women,  and  some, 
as  much  as  possible,  even  left  the  fishing  to 
them.  Where  there  were  no  tribal  wars,  the 
perfect  Indian  was  only  the  great  hunter.  And 
with  the  great  hunter,  his  work  ended  when  the 
game  was  killed.  If  it  were  at  all  possible  to 
send  his  wife  or  mother  to  the  spot  where  the 
animal  lay,  that  his  arrow  or  gun  had  brought 
down,  he  would  scorn  to  carry  or  drag  it  back 
to  camp.  He  had  killed  the  bear,  or  moose,  or 
reindeer,  or  whatever  animal  it  might  happen 
to  be,  and  now  it  was  woman's  work  to  take  it 
to  the  wigwam,  and  as  quickly  as  possible  pre- 
pare for  him  his  meal.  Thus  we  have  seen  the 
great  stalwart  six-footed  hunter  come  stalking 
into  the  village  with  his  gun  upon  his  shoulder, 
while  the  poor  mother,  or  wife,  or  daughter, 
came  trudging  on  behind,  almost  crushed  down 
with  the  weight  of  the  game  upon  her  back. 
He  carried  the  gun — she  the  game. 

Then,  no  matter  how  tired  she  might  be  with 
the  heavy  burden,  no  time  was  allowed  for  rest. 


Betsy,  the  Indian  Wife  177 

With  a  quick  harsh  "  kinipe  "  (hurry) :  she  was 
soon  at  work.  The  skin  was  quickly  and  skil- 
fully removed,  and  some  of  the  savoury  meat 
was  cooked  and  placed  before  her  husband  or 
son.  Not  a  mouthful  would  she  be  allowed  to 
taste  until  the  despot  had  leisurely  finished, 
unless  it  were  to  pick  some  of  the  bones  which 
he  condescendingly  threw  to  her,  as,  at  a  dis- 
tance from  him,  she  sat  with  the  girls  and  dogs. 
Thus  she  was  treated  as  a  slave,  or  drudge,  or 
beast  of  burden.  Then  when  sickness  or  old 
age  came  on,  and  she  became  unable  to  work 
and  toil  and  slave,  she  was  without  mercy  put 
out  of  existence :  the  usual  method  being 
strangulation. 

This  was  the  sad  condition  of  women  in 
various  parts  of  this  great  continent  ere  the 
Gospel  reached  the  Indian  tribes.  Very  mar- 
velous and  striking  have  been  the  transforma- 
tions which  we  have  witnessed  among  those  to 
whom  we  had  gone  with  the  truth.  At  some 
places  we  witnessed  changes  wrought  by  the 
labours  of  the  worthy  men  who  had  preceded 
us;  in  other  places  we  were  permitted  both  to 
sow  the  seed  and  see  the  glorious  harvest. 

Although,  from  the  white  man's  standpoint, 
the  people  here  were  poor,  yet  the  little  houses, 
where  were  the  followers  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
were  homes  of  happiness,  and  the  spirit  of 
kindliness  and  affection  everywhere  prevailed. 
12 


ijS  On  the  Indian  Trail 

There  men  and  women  lived  on  terms  of  equal- 
ity. No  longer  did  the  men  eat  alone,  and  of 
the  best  of  the  game  and  fish,  but  all  together, 
men  and  women,  boys  and  girls,  as  one  loving 
family,  shared  proportionately  what  had  been 
secured.  The  result  was,  there  was  a  spirit  of 
contentment  and  happiness  in  our  mission  vil- 
lage that  was  very  gratifying. 

However,  amidst  these  happy  faces  and  notes 
of  thanksgiving,  here  was  this  one  sorrowful 
face  and  silent  tongue.  What  was  the  cause  ? 
The  truth  came  out  at  last,  and  in  a  way  that 
was  almost  dramatic. 

Mrs.  Young  and  I  were  busy  one  day  with 
our  routine  duties,  when  Betsy  came  into  our 
home,  and  hardly  taking  time  enough  to  give 
the  usual  morning  salutation,  exclaimed  in  a 
most  decided  way :  "  Robert  is  not  kind  to  me, 
and  does  not  treat  me  like  the  other  men,  who 
profess  to  be  Christians,  treat  their  wives." 

This  strong,  emphatic  remark  startled  us,  and 
at  once  gave  us  the  clue  to  the  cause  of  the  sor- 
rowful face.  At  first,  we  hardly  knew  just  how 
to  answer  such  an  emphatic  utterance,  and  so 
in  silence  waited  for  her  to  proceed.  But  there 
she  sat  quietly,  her  face  nearly  hidden  in  her 
black  shawl,  seeming  to  be  afraid  to  proceed 
further.  So  we  had  at  length  to  break  the 
awkward  silence,  by  saying  we  were  very  sorry 
to  hear  her  words,  and  could  not  understand 


Betsy,  the  Indian  Wife  179 

their  meaning,  as  Robert  seemed  to  be  a  very 
good  man,  and  an  earnest  Christian. 

This  at  once  caused  her  to  break  her  silence, 
and  turning  around  to  me,  she  said : 

"  Yes,  that  is  it.  If  he  did  not  so  profess  to 
be  a  Christian,  I  would  never  mind  it,  and 
would  silently  bear  it;  but  he  professes  to  be  a 
Christian,  and  does  not  treat  me  in  the  way  in 
which  the  other  Christian  men  treat  their  wives." 

Then  she  quieted  down,  and  in  a  very  straight- 
forward way  told  us  her  story,  which  was  as  fol- 
lows : 

"  When  Robert  goes  out  and  shoots  a  deer,  it 
is  true  he  does  not  come  home  with  the  gun 
upon  his  shoulder,  and  make  me  go  out  on  his 
trail  and  bring  in  the  game  ;  he  brings  it  in 
himself,  like  the  other  Christian  Indians;  but 
when  it  is  brought  in,  he  makes  me  skin  it ;  and 
then  takes  the  two  haunches  over  to  the  fort, 
and  there  exchanges  them  with  the  fur-traders 
for  some  flour,  tea  and  sugar,  which  he  brings 
home.  I  have  to  cook  for  him  a  fore-shoulder 
of  the  deer,  make  cakes  at  the  fire,  out  of  his 
flour,  and  then  when  the  tea  is  made  and  supper 
is  ready,  sit  and  watch  him,  and  our  boys,  and 
any  men  visitors  who  happen  to  be  there — and 
a  number  are  generally  around  by  that  time — 
eat  until  all  is  consumed.  He  never  gives  any 
of  these  good  things  to  me,  or  to  the  girls.  We 
have  to  go  out  in  a  canoe,  and,  with  a  net,  catch 


180  On  the  Indian  Trail 

some  fish  for  our  food.  And  yet,"  she  added, 
with  some  bitterness,  "he  calls  himself  a  Chris- 
tian ;  and  treats  us  in  this  way,  as  though  he 
had  never  heard  the  missionary." 

Of  course  we  were  both  indignant  as  she  told 
her  story,  and  were  not  slow  in  letting  her  know 
of  our  annoyance  at  her  having  been  so  treated. 
But  wife-like,  and  woman-like,  when  I  said: 

"Robert  shall  hear  of  this,  and  shall  be 
straightened  out  forthwith,"  her  fears  were 
aroused,  and  it  seemed  as  though  she  were  now 
frightened  at  what  she  had  said.  However, 
there  was  not  much  difficulty  in  quieting  her 
fears,  although  at  first  it  did  seem  as  though 
she  would  rush  out  of  the  house,  and  return  to 
her  tent,  and  submit  to  the  humiliating  life 
which  she  saw  should  not  have  continued  so 
long. 

After  a  little  consultation  with  Mrs.  Young, 
our  course  of  action  was  agreed  upon.  It  was, 
that  Betsy  should  be  kept  at  the  mission  house 
until  I  had  assembled  in  the  church  a  number 
of  the  elderly  Christian  men ;  and  later  Robert, 
whom  we  learned  from  his  wife  was  then  at  his 
tent,  was  to  be  summoned. 

But  little  time  was  required  in  which  to 
gather  the  men  I  wanted,  as  most  of  the  people 
were  then  at  their  homes.  They  were  com- 
pletely in  the  dark  as  to  the  object  for  which  I 
had  called  them  together.  When  in  the  church, 


Betsy,  the  Indian  Wife  181 

I  sent  for  Mrs.  Young  and  Betsy  to  join  us. 
Poor  Betsy  was  now  so  frightened,  that  it 
seemed  as  if,  like  a  startled  deer,  she  would  run 
to  the  woods.  However,  she  was  in  good  hands. 
Mrs.  Young  spoke  soothing  words,  and  cheered 
her  much  by  telling  her,  that  what  she  had  done 
in  coming  to  us  with  the  story  of  her  wrongs 
was  perfectly  right,  and  that  very  soon  every 
thing  would  be  cleared  up. 

Shortly  after  the  two  women  came  in  and 
took  seats  together,  Robert,  for  whom  I  had 
sent  two  men,  walked  in. 

At  first  he  was  much  surprised  at  the  gather- 
ing, and  especially  puzzled  and  perplexed  at 
seeing  his  wife  sitting  there  by  the  side  of  the 
wife  of  the  missionary.  Before  he  could  say 
anything,  I  pointed  out  a  seat  for  him  where  he 
would  be  in  full  view  of  his  brother  Indians, 
and  yet,  where  his  presence  would  not  overawe, 
or  crush  down  his  wife.  Soon  after,  I  locked 
the  church  door  and  said : 

"  Let  us  pray." 

After  prayers  I  turned  to  Betsy,  and  said : 

"Now  Betsy,  if  what  you  told  Mrs.  Young 
and  me  in  the  mission  house  is  true,  and  I  be- 
lieve it  is,  I  want  you  now  to  tell  the  story  over 
again  that  these  Christian  men  may  hear  it. 
Never  mind  the  fact  of  Robert's  being  here ;  if 
he  is  a  Christian,  as  he  says  he  is,  the  hearing 
of  it  will,  I  hope,  do  him  good." 


182  On  the  Indian  Trail 

The  faces  of  those  Indians  were  studies. 
None  knew,  not  even  Robert  himself,  what 
Betsy  had  to  say;  and  so  they  waited  in  amaze- 
ment to  hear  her  story. 

With  an  encouraging  word  from  Mrs.  Young, 
she  began;  and  although  at  first  she  was  timid 
and  nervous,  she  soon  recovered  her  self-posses- 
sion, and  in  a  perfectly  natural  manner  told  the 
story  of  the  treatment  she  and  the  girls  had  re- 
ceived from  the  hands  of  her  husband.  With 
renewed  emphasis  she  dwelt  on  that  which 
seemed  to  have  given  her  the  most  sorrow  : 
"If  he  had  not  so  professed  to  be  a  Christian,  I 
would  not  have  so  much  minded  it." 

Indians  are  the  best  listeners  in  the  world. 
They  never  interrupt  anyone  in  his  talk.  And 
so,  even  Robert,  who  at  first  was  simply  dum- 
founded  and  amazed,  controlled  himself  and 
held  his  peace.  Very  few  white  men  could 
have  done  so.  I  had  purposely  so  placed  him, 
that  if  he  had  suddenly  attempted  violence, 
stronger  men  could  instantly  have  restrained 
him.  But  nothing  of  the  kind  was  attempted. 
As  his  wife  went  on  and  on,  showing  the  differ- 
ence between  his  conduct  toward  her  and  their 
girls,  and  that  of  the  other  Christian  men  to- 
ward their  wives  and  daughters,  Robert's  head 
went  lower  and  lower,  until  there  he  sat,  hu- 
miliated and  disgraced  before  his  brethren. 

When  Betsy  finished  her  talk  and  sat  down, 


Betsy,  the  Indian  Wife  183 

I  turned  to  the  good  men  there  assembled  and 
merely  said : 

"What  do  you  think  of  such  conduct  on  the 
part  of  one  who  professes  to  be  a  Christian  ?  " 

Their  indignation  knew  no  bounds.  Indian- 
like,  they  had  let  Betsy  tell  her  whole  story 
without  any  interruption  ;  but  the  looks  on 
their  faces  as  she  proceeded,  told  how  deeply 
affected  they  were.  Now  that  they  had  heard 
her  story,  it  seemed  as  though  they  all  wanted 
to  speak  at  once ;  but  there  are  well  under- 
stood, although  unwritten,  rules  of  precedence 
among  them,  so  the  first  in  order  spoke,  and 
then  the  second,  and  then  the  third,  and  so  on. 

How  they  did  dress  the  poor  fellow  down ! 
While  it  was  very  severe,  it  was  Christian  and 
brotherly.  They  spoke  as  men  who  were 
grieved  and  wounded. 

"  Is  this  the  way  you  have  acted !  You,  Rob- 
ert Atenou,  who  for  so  long  a  time  have  pro- 
fessed to  be  a  Christian ;  you,  to  treat  your 
poor  wife  and  children  like  that ;  as  though  no 
Bible,  or  missionary  had  come  among  us !  Now 
we  know  why  Betsy  has  been  so  sad,  and  did 
not  rejoice  like  the  other  women." 

Thus  they  faithfully  chided  him,  and  ex- 
pressed their  sorrow  at  his  heartless  conduct. 

Poor  Robert,  I  had  soon  to  pity  him.  First, 
of  course,  I  was  a  little  anxious  as  to  the  way 
in  which  a  once  proud-spirited  fiery  Indian, 


184  On  the  Indian  Trail 

would  take  his  wife's  arraignment  of  his  mis- 
doings and  selfishness,  and  also  these  reprimands 
from  his  brethren.  However,  it  turned  out  all 
right.  Robert  just  buried  his  bronzed  face  in 
his  hands,  and  received  it  all  in  silence.  When 
I  thought  it  had  gone  far  enough,  and  had  de- 
cided in  my  own  mind  not  then  and  there  to 
question  him,  I  asked  for  a  cessation  of  the 
speaking,  and  went  and  opened  the  church 
door. 

At  once  Robert  arose  and  left  the  church. 
Not  one  word  had  he  spoken  to  anybody. 

Betsy,  wife-like,  wished  immediately  to  follow 
him,  but  Mrs.  Young  persuaded  her  not  to  go 
for  a  little  while.  She  took  the  poor  frightened 
creature  into  the  mission  house,  gave  her  a 
cup  of  tea  and  something  to  eat,  and  what  she 
prized  more,  some  loving  sympathetic  words. 
When  she  did  return  home,  she  found  that 
Robert  was  absent.  The  children  said  that  he 
had  come  in,  and,  after  saying  some  kind  words 
to  them,  had  taken  his  gun  and  ammunition  and 
had  gone  off  hunting.  He  did  not  return  until 
the  next  day,  but  he  had  with  him  a  fine  deer. 
This  he  skinned  himself,  and  taking  the  two 
hind  quarters,  went  as  usual  to  the  fort,  and 
bartered  them  for  flour,  tea  and  sugar.  When 
he  returned  to  his  tent,  he  handed  these  things 
to  his  wife  and  desired  her  to  cook  them  as 
usual.  After  all  had  been  prepared,  he  had  all 


Betsy,  the  Indian  Wife  185 

placed  before  his  wife,  daughters,  and  sons. 
Then,  telling  them  to  enjoy  the  meal,  he  left 
the  tent.  Taking  a  net,  he  went  out  upon  the 
lake  in  a  canoe,  and  after  some  time  spent  in 
fishing,  was  seen  cooking  and  eating  his  catch 
upon  the  shore. 

Thus  he  lived  for  weeks.  He  was  a  good 
hunter,  and  worked  most  industriously  and 
successfully.  All  the  game  taken,  he  brought 
to  his  wife  and  children,  upon  which  he  insisted 
that  they  should  feast,  while  he  confined  him- 
self to  a  fish  diet ;  although  those  caught  at 
that  season  were  far  from  being  the  best. 

One  Saturday  evening,  as  we  were  standing 
in  the  front  of  our  mission  home  enjoying  the 
splendours  of  a  most  magnificent  sunset,  we 
saw  Robert  coming  up  the  trail.  As  he  drew 
near  I  accosted  him  kindly,  but  it  was  easy  to 
see  that  he  was  in  trouble,  and  that  there  was 
"something  on  his  mind."  We  chatted  about 
various  things,  and  I  encouraged  him  to  speak 
out  freely.  With  a  sudden  effort  he  broke 
loose  from  his  feeling  of  restraint,  and  said : 

"  Missionary,  are  you  going  to  let  me  come 
to  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  to-mor- 
row?" 

Four  times  a  year  we  had  this  sacramental 
service,  and  it  was  a  great  event  to  our  native 
Christians.  In  answer  to  his  question  I  re- 
plied : 


186  On  the  Indian  Trail 

"  Why  Robert,  what  is  there  to  cause  me  to 
wish  to  prevent  you  from  coming  to  the  Lord's 
table  ?  " 

Looking  at  me  earnestly,  he  said : 

"  There  is  a  good  deal.  Just  think  of  the 
way  I  have  treated  my  wife  and  daughters  !  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  remember  that ;  but  I  also 
know  how  you  have  been  treating  them  dur- 
ing the  last  few  weeks." 

With  a  face  from  which  the  shadows  had  now 
fled  away,  he  said  quickly : 

"  Have  you  heard  anything  about  that?  " 

"O  yes,  Robert,"  I  replied,  "I  know  all 
about  it.  I  have  good  eyes  and  ears,  and  I 
have  seen  and  heard  how  nobly  you  have  re- 
deemed yourself.  I  am  very  glad  of  it.  Of 
course  I  will  welcome  you  to  the  Lord's 
table." 

After  a  little  further  conversation,  I  said  : 

"  Tell  me,  Robert,  why  did  yon  act  so  sel- 
fishly toward  your  wife  and  daughters  ?  " 

He  just  uttered  with  emphasis,  the  Indian 
word  which  means :  "  Stupidity," — then  after 
a  little  pause  he  quietly  added  :  "  But  I  think 
I  have  got  over  it." 

And  so  he  had. 


XI 

FIVE  INDIANS  AND  A  JACK-KNIFE 

INDIAN  boys  dearly  love  pocket-knives.  As 
they  have  to  make  their  own  bows  and  arrows, 
the  paddles  for  their  birch  canoes,  and  also  the 
frames  for  their  snow  shoes,  of  course  a  good 
knife  is  a  valued  possession.  In  whittling,  In- 
dian boys  do  not  push  the  knife  from  them, 
but  always  draw  it  toward  them.  They  are 
very  clever  in  the  manufacture  of  the  few 
things  which  they  require,  and  are  encouraged 
by  their  fathers  to  do  their  work  as  neatly  as 
possible.  So  the  better  the  knife,  the  better 
the  work  which  these  Indian  lads  can  do,  and 
they  are  ambitious  to  possess  the  very  best 
knife  that  it  is  possible  for  them  to  obtain  ;  just 
as  the  older  Indians  will  give  any  price  within 
their  means  for  the  very  best  guns  that  are 
made.  Knowing  this  love  for  a  good  knife,  I 
once  used  it  among  a  lot  of  Indian  lads,  as  an 
incentive  to  encourage  them  to  sing :  as  our 
story  will  explain. 

At  one  of  our  Indian  villages,  where  a 
flourishing  mission  with  its  day  and  Sunday 
schools  exists,  the  devoted  lady  teacher  said  to 
me  on  a  recent  visit : 

187 


i88  On  the  Indian  Trail 

"  I  do  wish  you  would  do  something  to  en- 
courage our  boys  to  sing.  They  have  good 
voices,  but  they  seem  afraid  to  use  them.  If  I 
do  succeed  in  getting  one  to  sing,  the  others 
laugh  at  him,  and  then  there  is  no  more  singing 
that  day." 

I  gladly  promised  to  do  what  I  could ;  but 
before  I  describe  the  plan  adopted,  perhaps  I 
would  better  give  some  description  of  these 
Indians  among  whom  this  courageous  young 
lady  was  living.  Their  hunting  grounds  are  in 
the  vast  region  which  lies  between  Lake  Win- 
nipeg and  Hudson  Bay.  They  are  called 
Saulteaux,  and  are  a  subdivision  of  the  great 
Algonquin  family. 

Until  very  recently  they  lived  altogether  by 
hunting  and  fishing.  So  ignorant  were  they, 
even  of  the  existence  of  bread,  that  when  the 
first  missionaries,  who  translated  into  their 
language  the  Lord's  prayer,  came  to  the  peti- 
tion, "  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread,"  to 
make  it  intelligible  to  them,  they  had  to  trans- 
late it,  "  Give  us  this  day  something  to  keep  us 
in  life." 

They  were,  and  still  are  very  poor.  Once 
the  forests  abounded  in  game,  and  the  richest 
fur-bearing  animals,  such  as  the  black  and 
silver  foxes,  otters,  beavers,  minks,  martens  and 
ermines,  were  caught  in  large  numbers;  but 
incessant  huntings  have  almost  annihilated  some 


Five  Indians  and  a  Jack-knife     189 

of  these  animals,  and  others  are  very  difficult 
to  find.  The  lakes  once  teemed  with  fish  ;  but 
the  rapid  increase  of  the  white  population  in 
the  northwestern  states  and  in  Manitoba,  has 
so  multiplied  the  demands,  that  not  one  quarter 
as  many  fish  are  now  caught  as  formerly. 

The  result  is,  that  the  poor  Indians  whose 
sole  dependence  was  on  these  things,  are  not  as 
well  off  as  they  formerly  were,  even  with  the  little 
help  which  they  receive  from  the  government. 
Hence  it  is  the  imperative  duty  of  the  mission- 
aries, not  only  to  Christianise  them,  but  to  do 
all  they  can,  in  harmony  with  the  government 
officials,  to  encourage  them  to  raise  cattle,  to 
cultivate  what  land  is  available,  and  to  raise 
those  hardy  crops  which  will  come  to  maturity 
in  such  a  cold  northern  region. 

This  was  the  place ;  and  those  were  the  Indiana 
whose  boys  the  devoted  teacher  wished  me  to 
encourage  to  sing.  The  request  was  made 
during  the  celebration  of  a  feast  which  I  was 
giving  them.  I  had  taken  out  from  civilisation 
such  things  as  flour,  tea,  sugar,  currants,  can- 
dies; and  at  four  A.  M.  the  Indian  women  had 
come  to  the  place  appointed,  and  had  cooked 
the  cakes  etc.,  and  made  all  other  needed  prep- 
arations. 

At  about  ten  the  people  assembled  on  the 
bank  of  the  river  in  front  of  the  church. 
Everybody  came.  All  were  welcome.  It  was 


igo  On  the  Indian  Trail 

not  asked  whether  they  were  Christian  or  pagan. 
We  greeted  them  all  cordially,  and  treated  them 
alike. 

Of  the  happy  incidents  of  the  feast,  the  glad 
hours  of  loving  converse,  and  the  religious 
services  held  after,  we  have  no  room  here  to 
write.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  at  about  four  P.  M. 
the  children's  hour  came,  and  with  them  we 
had  a  very  interesting  time.  I  was  delighted 
with  their  answers  to  my  many  questions, 
especially  with  their  knowledge  of  the  blessed 
Book.  The  girls  sang  very  sweetly,  but  not 
much  music  came  from  the  boys,  and  so  I  began 
at  once  to  act  on  the  request  of  the  teacher. 

Knowing,  as  I  have  stated,  the  boys'  love  for 
pocket-knives,  I  went  to  one  of  my  boxes,  and 
taking  out  six  very  good  ones,  I  stood  up  before 
the  crowd  and  said : 

"  Boys,  listen  to  me.  I  am  going  to  give  these 
six  knives  to  the  six  boys  who  will  sing  the 
best.  And  look  I  While  five  of  them  are  good 
two  bladed  knives,  one  of  them  is  a  splendid 
four  bladed  one !  Now,  I  am  going  to  give  this 
best  one,  to  the  boy  who  will  sing  the  best  of 
all ! " 

Great  indeed  was  the  excitement  among  the 
Indian  lads.  Nearly  every  boy  in  the  audience 
rushed  to  the  front,  and  the  trial  began.  Indians 
in  their  wild  state  have  no  music  worth  pre- 
serving, and  so  in  all  of  our  missions,  our  hymns 


Five  Indians  and  a  Jack-knife     191 

and  songs  are  translated,  and  the  tunes  of  civ- 
ilisation are  used.  The  teacher  seated  herself 
at  the  little  organ,  and  the  testing  began. 
They  sang  such  hymns  as  "Rock  of  Ages," 
"  Come,  thou  Fount  of  every  blessing,"  "  Just 
as  I  am,"  "  Jesus  my  all,  to  heaven  is  gone," 
and  many  others. 

The  inferior  singers  were  weeded  out  very 
rapidly,  and  sent  back  to  their  seats.  When 
the  number  was  reduced  to  about  ten,  the  work 
of  selection  proceeded  more  slowly :  but  even- 
tually the  number  was  reduced  to  six.  The 
question  now  was,  Which  of  these  six  was  to 
receive  the  four-bladed  knife  ?  This  was  not 
easy  to  settle.  The  members  of  the  committee 
differed  very  decidedly ;  so  one  boy  after  another 
was  tried,  over  and  over  again,  and  still  no 
unanimous  decision  could  be  reached. 

While  the  committee  was  discussing  the  mat- 
ter, five  of  the  boys,  seeing  our  perplexity,  took 
the  matter  out  of  our  hands  and  settled  it  in  a 
way  that  surprised  and  delighted  us  all.  These 
five  were  fine  specimens  of  Indian  lads.  They 
were  lithe  and  strong,  and  full  of  life  and  fun. 
The  sixth  boy,  Jimmie  Jakoos,  was  a  cripple, 
having  one  leg  which  was  very  much  shorter 
than  the  other  :  the  result  being  that  he  had  to 
use  crutches.  These  five  had  moved  over  to 
one  side,  and  were  observed  to  be  excitedly, 
though  quietly,  engaged  in  conversation. 


192  On  the  Indian  Trail 

After  their  brief  discussion,  one  of  them 
sprang  up,  and  looking  at  me  asked, 

"  Missionary,  may  I  say  something  ?  " 

"  Certainly  you  may,"  I  replied. 

"  Well,  missionary,"  he  answered,  "  we  five 
boys  have  been  talking  it  over,  and  this  is  what 
we  think  about  it.  You  see  we  are  well  and 
strong.  We  can  chase  the  rabbit,  and  partridge, 
and  other  game ;  and  then  when  winter  comes, 
we  can  skate  on  the  rivers,  and  lake ;  but  Jim- 
mie  is  lame,  he  has  a  bad  leg.  He  cannot  run 
in  the  woods.  He  cannot  go  skating  on  the 
ice.  But  Jimmy  is  fond  of  whittling.  He  is  a 
good  hand  at  making  bows,  and  arrows,  and 
paddles,  and  other  things,  and  a  fine  knife  would 
be  just  the  thing  for  him.  And  so  we  five  boys 
have  talked  the  matter  over,  and  as  he  is  a  crip- 
ple, we  will  be  very  glad  if  you  will  give  the 
best  knife  to  Jimmie." 

Noble  boys !  How  the  people  were  thrilled 
at  this  speech.  It  electrified  me,  and  filled  not 
only  my  eyes  with  tears,  but  my  heart  with 

j°y- 

I  could  but  think  of  the  past,  of  the  cruelty 
and  intense  selfishness  of  those  dark  days, 
when,  among  both  the  young  and  old,  everyone 
was  for  himself,  and  the  unfortunate,  and  fee- 
ble, were  neglected  and  despised.  Now,  thanks 
to  the  blessed  ennobling  influences  of  Chris- 
tianity, even  the  boys  were  catching  this 


Five  Indians  and  a  Jack-knife     193 

Christly  spirit,  and  would  spontaneously  act  in 
this  delightful  way. 

So  to  Jimmie  was  given  the  four-bladed 
knife,  and  to  the  other  boys  were  handed  the 
two-bladed  ones  ;  but  so  pleased  was  I  with  the 
beautiful  spirit  displayed  by  them,  that  I  added 
to  the  gift  a  good  shirt  or  jacket  as  each  boy 
chose. 


13 


XV 

THE    SAULTBAUX    CHIEFTATNESS ;   OR,    A 
SEAECHER   AFTER   THE  TRUTH 

SHE  was  a  large  woman,  and  as  she  came 
into  our  mission  home,  her  conduct  was  so  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  the  ordinary  Indian  woman, 
that  I  was  somewhat  prejudiced  against  her. 
Generally  the  Indian  women  when  they  enter 
a  house  are  quiet,  and  modest,  and  unobtrusive 
in  their  movements ;  but  here  stalked  in  a 
large  woman,  who  gazed  at  us  with  searching 
glances,  and  had  such  decided  ways,  that  I  felt 
disturbed  at  her  presence,  and  soon  left  the 
house  for  a  couple  of  hours  in  the  woods  where 
some  of  my  Indian  men  were  at  work. 

When  I  returned,  it  was  with  the  hope  that 
she  had  finished  her  visit  and  retired.  But  no, 
there  she  was;  and  it  was  quite  evident  that 
she  had  come  to  stay.  When  my  good  wife 
saw  my  apparent  annoyance  at  this  new  visitor, 
she  called  me  to  one  side  and  said : 

"  You  must  not  be  annoyed  at  this  woman. 
She  is  a  chieftainess,  and  the  daughter  of  a 
chief.  Her  husband  was  a  chief,  and  when  he 
died,  she,  at  the  request  of  her  people,  took  his 
position,  and  has  maintained  it  ever  since." 
194 


The  Saulteaux  Chieftainess         195 

She  had  heard  from  some  fur-hunters  about 
our  having  come  to  live  in  the  land  of  the 
Saulteaux.  She  had  also  heard  of  the  wonder- 
ful book  we  had,  which  was  the  word  of  the 
Great  Spirit;  and  this  too,  had  excited  her 
curiosity.  She  had  listened  to  these  rumours 
with  incredulity,  and  did  not  believe  them  ; 
but  as  they  increased,  her  curiosity  was  so  ex- 
cited, that  she  resolved  at  length  to  find  out  for 
herself  if  these  things  were  true,  and  had  ac- 
tually come  many  days'  journey  to  investigate 
for  herself.  Here  she  was,  thoroughly  installed 
in  our  little  home,  and  I,  at  first,  much  prej- 
udiced against  her  on  account  of  her  decided 
emphatic  sort  of  way. 

I  sat  down  beside  her,  and  had  her  tell  me 
her  story.  She  was  indeed  a  clever  woman,  and 
was  full  of  anxiety  to  learn  if  what  she  had 
heard  were  true.  She  was  an  anxious  inquirer 
after  truth,  literally  insatiable  in  her  curiosity, 
and  in  her  desire  to  learn  all  she  could.  She 
could  talk  morning,  noon  and  night,  and  would 
keep  one  of  us  busy  answering  her  questions 
all  the  time  she  was  not  sleeping  or  eating. 
She  stayed  with  us  about  two  weeks,  and  then 
returned  to  her  people  ;  meanwhile  attending 
every  religious  service,  and  receiving  many  les- 
sons in  divine  truth.  The  simple  plan  of  salva- 
tion was  explained  to  her,  and  she  was  taught 
how  to  pray. 


196  On  the  Indian  Trail 

Ere  she  went  away,  I  said  to  her : 

"  Now  you  are  going  back  home,  and  I  want 
to  say  something  to  you.  You  must  try  to  re- 
member what  we  have  said  about  the  loving 
Father,  and  His  beloved  Son.  You  must  try 
to  pray  every  day  to  Him,  and  you  must  try  to 
love  Him  and  keep  all  of  His  commands. 

"Now  one  of  these  commands  is, '  Remember 
the  Sabbath  day  to  keep  it  holy.'  Christians 
keep  one  day  in  seven,  and  you  say  that  your 
people  desire  to  be  Christians ;  and  I  believe 
you.  We  want  you  to  be  a  Christian  in  every- 
thing, and  so  we  want  you  to  remember  this 
among  the  other  commandments.  To  help  you 
in  this  matter,  I  am  going  to  give  you  this  big 
sheet  of  paper  and  pencil,  and  you  will  mark 
each  day  as  it  goes  by." 

So  starting  her  on  Monday,  I  showed  her  how 
to  mark  the  days  in  this  way : — 111111.  "  Those 
six  are  your  days,  in  which  to  hunt  and  fish  and 
attend  to  all  your  duties  as  a  chieftainess. 
Look  after  all  your  affairs  on  those  six  days ; 
then,  when  the  seventh  day  comes,  make  a  big 
mark  in  this  way  : . 

"This  mark  is  for  God's  day.  Leave  your 
gun  and  net  on  that  day,  and  do  not  go  hunt- 
ing or  fishing :  it  is  the  day  of  rest  and  wor- 
ship. Make  all  preparations  for  it  on  the  day 
before.  See  that  you  have  plenty  of  food 
captured,  and  wood  cut,  so  that  when  the  day 


The  Saulteaux  Chieftainess        197 

of  God  comes,  you  will  not  have  to  work  or 
hunt  or  fish.  On  that  day  think  much  about 
the  Great  Spirit,  and  pray  much  to  your  loving 
Father  who  sees  and  hears  you  all  the  time,  and 
who  is  well  pleased  if  we  keep  His  day  and 
worship  Him  upon  it." 

Ere  she  left,  she  pleaded  earnestly  with  me 
to  come  and  visit  her  and  her  tribe,  and  preach 
to  them,  and  explain  the  way  of  the  Great 
Book.  My  engagements  were  very  many,  but 
finding  that  I  could  crowd  in  a  visit,  I  said : 

"  When  the  eagle  moon  is  filling  out,  listen 
for  the  ringing  of  the  missionary's  sleigh  bells, 
for  then  will  he  be  coming  to  see  you  and  your 
people  with  his  dog-train  and  guide." 

My  programme  of  engagements  was  so  great, 
that  it  was  about  six  months  ere  I  could  make 
the  promised  visit.  So  when  the  eagle  moon 
came — which  is  February — I  harnessed  up  my 
dogs,  and  taking  one  of  my  experienced  guides 
and  a  couple  of  dog-drivers,  started  for  the  far- 
off  land  of  Ookemasis. 

We  were  about  two  weeks  on  the  journey. 
It  was  one  of  the  most  dangerous  and  toilsome 
I  ever  undertook.  We  often  had  to  travel 
along  on  the  narrow  ledges  of  ice  that  over- 
hung the  rapid  waters  of  the  great  river.  Some- 
times our  dog-sleds  would  whirl  round  on  the 
ice,  and  we  come  very  near  falling  off  into  the 
dark  cold  waters.  This  was  much  more  danger- 


198  On  the  Indian  Trail 

ous  from  the  fact,  that  much  of  the  traveling 
had  to  be  done  by  night,  for  the  dazzling  rays 
of  the  sun  during  the  daytime  rendered  us  so 
liable  to  the  terrible  snow-blindness,  which  is 
such  a  painful  disease.  However,  we  perse- 
vered, and  by  daylight  when  possible,  and  by 
night  when  we  could  do  no  better,  pushed  on, 
and  at  last  reached  our  destination. 

The  last  six  miles  of  the  journey  lay  across 
a  frozen  lake  on  the  farther  shore  of  which 
was  the  village  of  the  chieftainess.  When  not 
more  than  half  way  across  the  lake,  the  sharp 
eyes  of  those  on  the  lookout,  detected  our 
coming,  whereupon  great  excitement  prevailed 
in  the  village.  Never,  it  seemed,  was  there  a 
happier  woman  than  Ookemasis.  She  received 
us  with  a  wondrous  welcome,  and  in  emphatic 
ways  expressed  her  gratitude  and  joy.  Already 
when  we  arrived,  the  feast  of  welcome  was  be- 
ing prepared.  When  she  was  certain  that  it 
was  the  missionary,  she  had  taken  down  from  a 
staging  some  heads  of  reindeer,  and,  after  singe- 
ing off  the  hair  and  chopping  them  into  great 
chunks,  had  put  them  into  a  big  pot  to  boil. 

After  the  warm  welcome,  we  were  escorted 
to  a  large  tent  to  wait  until  dinner  was  ready. 
As  she  had  no  tea,  I  gave  her  a  quantity  much  to 
her  delight.  So  excited  was  she,  that  she  kept 
running  into  the  tent  to  tell  me  how  great  was 
her  joy,  that  at  length  the  man  and  the  Book 


The  Saulteaux  Chieftainess        199 

had  come  to  her  people.  When  dinner  was 
ready,  she  escorted  me  and  my  attendants  out 
to  it.  A  spot  had  been  cleaned  away,  in  the 
centre  of  which,  on  a  big  dish,  was  a  large  pile 
of  pieces  of  reindeer  heads.  Around  were  a 
number  of  tin  cups  filled  with  hot  strong  tea. 
Her  invitations  had  been  limited  to  the  number 
of  tin  cups  she  could  muster.  She  placed  me 
at  her  left,  arid  her  chief  next  in  authority  to 
herself,  on  her  right.  My  guide  and  dog-driv- 
ers were  next  to  me  on  my  left,  and  the  circle 
was  completed  with  other  Indian  men.  She 
was  the  only  woman  in  the  circle. 

As  soon  as  we  were  seated  on  the  ground, 
some  of  the  men  at  once  seized  hold  of  a  piece 
of  meat,  and  drawing  their  hunting  knives, 
were  about  to  begin  their  dinners. 

"  Stop,"  said  I.  "  Wait  a  minute.  You  are 
all  going  to  be  Christians,  and  one  thing  Chris- 
tians do,  is  to  ask  a  blessing  upon  their  food. 
The  Great  Spirit  gives  us  all  the  good  things, 
and  we  must  thank  Him  for  them.  So  now 
shut  your  eyes,  and  I  will  ask  the  blessing." 

Every  eye  was  closed  as  I  asked  a  blessing  of 
several  sentences.  When  I  had  finished,  I  said 
"  Amen  "  and  of  course  opened  my  own  eyes. 
To  my  amazement  and  amusement,  every  eye, 
except  those  of  my  own  Indian  attendants,  was 
still  closed. 

"  Open   your  eyes,"   I   said.     "  Amen,  here 


2OO  On  the  Indian  Trail 

means,  open  your  eyes.     It    has    some    other 
meanings,  but  that  will  do  here." 

Then  we  went  at  our  dinners.  There  were 
no  plates  or  forks,  only  our  hunting  knives. 
Every  one,  including  the  missionary,  took  up 
a  piece  of  the  well-cooked  meat  in  his  left  hand, 
and  began  whittling  off  his  dinner  with  his 
knife.  My  friend,  the  chieftuiness,  had  large, 
strong  and  not  very  clean  hands.  But  she 
cared  not  for  that.  She  grabbed  up  a  large 
piece  of  juicy  meat,  into  which  her  hand  almost  - 
sank,  and  cut  and  tore  off  the  savoury  bits  with 
great  delight.  Then  she  flung  it  on  the  ground, 
and  took  a  good  drink  of  the  tea;  and  then  seiz- 
ing hold  of  the  meat  tore  at  it  again  with  great 
satisfaction.  Suddenly  she  dropped  it  again 
upon  the  ground,  and,  plunging  her  greasy 
hand  into  the  bosom  of  her  dress,  said : 

"  O,  missionary,  I  want  you  to  see  how  I 
have  tried  to  keep  the  record  of  the  praying 
day."  So  out  of  the  bosom  of  her  dress  she 
drew  a  greasy  dirty  paper,  which  at  first  I  did 
not  recognise  as  the  large  clean  sheet  I  had 
given  her. 

"  Here,  look,"  she  said,  "  see  how  I  have  tried 
to  keep  the  record  of  the  praying  day !  " 

With  much  interest,  I  examined  it,  and 
found,  that  during  all  those  six  months,  she  had 
faithfully  kept  the  record.  There  it  was,  the 
right  day  for  all  that  long  period.  Then  she 


The  Saulteaux  Chieftainess        201 

went  on  to  tell  me  of  all  her  experiences.  She 
said,  that  some  days  when  she  was  in  her  wig- 
wam trying  to  think  of  the  Great  Spirit  and  of 
His  Son,  and  was  trying  to  pray  to  Him,  a  boy 
would  rush  in  and  say  : 

"  Ookemasis,  there  is  a  big  reindeer  out  in 
the  ravine,  I  am  sure  you  can  shoot  it.' 

"  But  I  would  say,  'No.  This  is  the  praying 
day  and  I 'cannot  fish  or  shoot  on  this  day.'  So 
I  have  never  gone  hunting  or  fishing  on  the 
praying  day.  I  just  try  to  think  of  the  Great 
Spirit,  my  Father,  and  to  pray  and  talk  to  Him, 
and  have  Him  talk  to  me." 

Of  course  I  spoke  kind  and  encouraging 
words  to  her,  and  she  was  very  happy  indeed 
to  hear  them. 

Then  she  put  back  the  dirty  paper,  and  reach- 
ing down  to  the  ground  again  seized  hold  of 
her  big  piece  of  meat.  Looking  at  mine,  a 
bony  bit  which  I  had  selected  because  I  could 
hold  it  a  little  more  easily  while  I  carved  it, 
she  shouted  out : 

"  Your  piece  of  meat  is  a  very  poor  one,  mine 
is  a  very  good  piece  !  "  and  before  I  could  real- 
ise what  she  was  about,  she  exchanged  the 
pieces.  Of  course  I  could  do  nothing  but  ac- 
cept it,  with  thanks.  I  had  to  approve  of  the 
motive,  even  if  I  did  not  applaud  the  deed.  It 
was  an  act  of  kindness  that  we  are  not  all  edu- 
cated up  to. 


202  On  the  Indian  Trail 

After  the  dinner  we  had  a  religious  service 
that  lasted  until  supper  time.  Then,  after  a 
good  supper  of  fish,  we  had  another  service, 
that  lasted  until  midnight.  Then  she  put  me 
in  charge  of  one  of  her  Indians  who  had  a  large 
wigwam.  With  him  my  Indians  and  I  spent 
the  night.  There  were  only  twenty-two  of  us 
sleeping  around  the  fire  in  the  centre. 

I  remained  with  them  for  a  number  of  days, 
and  since  then,  they  have  all  given  up  pagan- 
ism, and  have  become  good  earnest  Christian 
people. 


XVI 

BIG  TOM 

His  full  name  was  Mamanowatum,  which 
means,  "  O  be  joyful."  He  was  a  big  man,  al- 
most gigantic,  and  generally  slow  in  his  move- 
ments, except  when  on  the  trail.  When  he 
arose  to  address  an  assembly,  either  in  council, 
or  church,  he  got  up  by  inches,  and  seemed  to 
rest  between.  But  when  he  was  up,  and  began 
to  talk,  he  had  something  to  say  that  was 
worthy  of  attention. 

Our  first  introduction  to  him  was  in  1868. 
He  was  the  guide  and  steersman  of  the  Hudson 
Bay  inland  boat,  in  which  my  wife  and  I  trav- 
eled from  Fort  Garry,  on  the  Red  River  of  the 
North,  to  Norway  house,  situated  on  Play- 
green  Lake,  beyond  the  northern  extremity  of 
Lake  Winnipeg. 

At  this  time  Big  Tom,  as  he  was  called  by 
everybody,  had  been  an  earnest  Christian  for 
several  years.  Earlier  missionaries  had  pre- 
ceded us,  and  among  the  Indian  converts  was 
this  godly  man,  about  whom  it  is  a  pleasure  to 
write.  We  both  took  to  him  at  once.  He  was 
one  of  nature's  noblemen.  While  pleased  with 
his  kindly  considerate  ways,  we  admired  the 
203 


204  On  the  Indian  Trail 

skill  and  ability  with  which  he  managed  the  lit- 
tle boat  on  such  a  stormy  lake. 

The  long  and  dangerous  journey  was  of 
about  four  hundred  miles,  and  occupied  us  for 
about  fourteen  days.  Big  Tom  steered  our 
boat  with  a  long  oar,  which  he  used  as  a  rud- 
der. The  principal  propelling  power  of  these 
boats,  is  the  long  strong  oars,  manned  by  the 
Indian  crews.  We  had  in  our  boat  eight  good 
oarsmen,  and  the  vigour  and  endurance  of 
these  men  was  a  matter  of  constant  admiration. 
When  head  winds  prevailed,  or  we  were  in  the 
midst  of  calm,  hour  after  hour  these  faithful 
men  toiled  on  at  their  oars,  as  diligently  as  ever 
did  any  galley  slave.  A  favouring  breeze,  even 
if  it  turned  into  a  dangerous  gale,  was  ever 
welcomed,  as  At  gave  the  men  a  rest  from  their 
slavish  work. 

As  soon  as  the  wind  was  favourable  the 
cheery  cry  of: 

"  Meyoo-nootin,"  (Fair  wind,)  from  the 
guide, — or  as  was  the  cry  on  this  trip,  "  Sou- 
way-nas,"  (South  wind,) — gladdened  every 
heart.  At  once  there  was  great  activity.  The 
oars  were  hauled  in,  and  the  mast  which  had 
been  lashed  to  the  side  of  the  boat,  was  quickly 
placed  in  position.  Ropes  were  speedily  -ar- 
ranged, the  big  square  sail  was  hoisted,  and  on 
we  sped  before  the  favouring  breeze. 

With  the  rising  of  the  wind,  generally  came 


Big  Tom  205 

the  great  waves  ;  and  the  most  careful  steering 
on  the  part  of  Big  Tom  was  necessary  to  keep 
our  heavily  laden  boat  from  plunging  her  prow 
into  foam-covered  billows.  It  was  a  pleasure 
to  observe  the  watchful  care  of  this  cautious 
steersman,  as  well  as  to  see  the  strength  and 
quickness  with  which  he  managed  our  little 
boat  when  great  waves  seemed  about  to  sweep 
over  us.  His  courteous  ways  won  our  respect, 
while  his  ability  as  a  steersman  commanded 
our  admiration. 

He  did  all  that  he  could  to  make  our  trip, 
which  had  many  drawbacks,  as  comfortable 
and  as  enjoyable  as  possible.  It  was  not  very 
comfortable  to  have  a  great  struggling  ox  on 
board,  very  close  to  the  place  where  we  had  to 
sit.  Sometimes,  as  the  boat  was  tossed  on  the 
waves,  his  head  was  over  one  side  of  the  little 
craft ;  and  then  shortly  after,  his  tail  was  over 
the  other  side. 

Every  night  where  we  camped  on  the  shore, 
Big  Tom  gathered  bundles  of  fragrant  grass, 
part  of  which  he  gave  the  ox  as  provender,  and 
with  the  rest  he  endeavoured  to  make  our  sur- 
roundings more  comfortable  and  inviting.  He 
regretted,  perhaps  as  much  as  we  did,  our  hav- 
ing to  travel  so  long  a  time  with  this  great  ox 
so  close  to  us ;  and  yet  ere  we  reached  the  end 
of  our  journey,  it  seemed  almost  a  certainty, 
that  what  we  had  considered  an  unmitigated 


206  On  the  Indian  Trail 

nuisance,  had  been  our  salvation.  One  night, 
in  our  anxiety  to  push  on,  the  Indians  decided 
not  to  go  ashore  and  camp,  but  to  sail  on  all 
night  as  the  wind  was  favourable.  During  the 
small  hours  the  wind  increased  almost  to  a  gale, 
while  dark  clouds  obscured  nearly  every  star. 
Big  Tom — hero  that  he  was — stuck  to  his  post 
and,  nobly  aided  by  his  experienced  Indians, 
under  close-reefed  sail,  sped  rapidly  on  in  the 
gloom.  The  missionary  and  his  wife  were 
sleeping  in  their  camp  bed,  which  had  been 
spread  out  at  the  feet  of  the  steersman ;  and 
just  beyond  us,  lying  down  at  our  feet,  was  the 
great  ox.  Suddenly  the  boat  was  thrown  on  its 
side,  and  came  to  a  standstill.  For  a  time  there 
was  great  excitement,  and  the  shouting  of 
orders  by  the  usually  quiet  Indians,  about 
equalled  the  raging  of  the  storm. 

With  great  presence  of  mind,  Big  Tom  in- 
stantly lowered  the  sail,  thus  saving  us  from  a 
complete  upset.  It  was  found  that  we  had  run 
on  the  sloping  side  of  a  smooth  submerged 
granite  rock.  Fortunate  indeed  was  it  for  us 
that  our  boat  was  well  ballasted  by  its  cargo, 
and  that  the  heaviest  item  was  the  ox.  The 
unanimous  opinion  of  the  Indians  was,  that  his 
great  weight  saved  us  from  a  capsize.  By 
careful  management  the  boat  was  released  from 
its  perilous  position  uninjured,  and  the  ad- 
venturous journey  resumed. 


Big  Tom  207 

After  this  exciting  adventure,  Big  Tom  de- 
cided that  there  must  be  no  more  night  travel- 
ing. So  from  early  dawn  until  late  at  night 
we  hurried  on,  encamping  each  evening  in  some 
favourable  spot  upon  the  shore. 

The  camp-fire,  generously  supplied  with  fuel 
from  the  great  forests  so  near,  lit  up  the 
swarthy  features  of  our  stalwart  men,  some  of 
whom  were  engaged  in  preparing  the  evening 
meal,  while  others,  in  picturesque  groups,  were 
otherwise  occupied.  This  hearty  evening  meal 
was  enjoyed  by  all. 

Shortly  after,  we  all  assembled  for  our  even- 
ing devotions.  Some  additional  logs  thrown 
upon  our  camp-fire  so  brightened  it  up,  that  all 
who  wished  could  easily  follow  the  reading  of 
the  lesson  in  their  own  Testaments  and  use 
their  own  hymn-books  in  the  service  of  song. 
The  memories  of  some  of  those  religious  serv- 
ices are  very  precious.  Still  can  we  hear  Big 
Tom's  deep  rich  voice  reading  in  his  musical 
Cree  language : 

"  Weya  Muneto  a  ispeeche  saketapun  uske, 
ke  makew  oo  pauko-Koosisana,  piko  una  tap- 
watowayitche  numaweya  oo  ga  nissewunat- 
issety,  maka  oo  ga  ayaty  kakeka  pimatissewin." 

Which  is  the  translation  of  that  matchless 
verse,  the  sixteenth  of  the  third  chapter  of  St. 
John's  Gospel. 

Then  after  the  chapter  was  read,  an  appro- 


208  On  the  Indian  Trail 

priate  hymn  would  be  sung.  The  Indians  have 
but  little  music  of  their  own,  and  less  poetry 
that  can  be  made  available  for  religious  wor- 
ship. The  result  is,  that  the  missionaries  and 
teachers  have  already  translated  over  four  hun- 
dred of  our  choicest  hymns  into  the  Indian  Ian 
guage,  and  use  with  them  the  tunes  with  which 
they  have  been  generally  associated.  Upon  the 
occasion  to  which  we  refer,  it  did  seem  sweet 
and  appropriate  to  us  to  sing,  even  if  in  another 
language,  the  favorite  evening  hymn : 

"  Glory  to  Thee  my  God  this  night, 
For  all  the  blessings  of  the  light ; 
Keep  me,  O  keep  me  King  of  kings, 
Beneath  thine  own  almighty  wings." 

When  our  evening  hymn  had  been  sung,  we 
knelt  reverently  upon  the  rocks,  while  Big 
Tom,  or  some  other  godly  Indian,  led  us  in 
prayer,  followed  by  one  or  two  others.  Then 
sweet  rest  was  ours,  until  the  early  dawn.  A 
sharp  call,  to  which  all  promptly  responded, 
was  followed  by  a  hasty  breakfast,  and  earnest 
prayers,  and  then  the  journey  was  resumed. 

Two  Sabbaths  were  spent  on  this  journey. 
To  our  Christian  Indians,  the  Sabbath  was  in- 
deed a  much  prized  blessing.  By  scripturally 
using  it  as  a  day  of  rest  and  religious  worship, 
and  not  as  a  day  of  dissipation,  they  were 
physically,  as  well  as  spiritually,  invigourated ; 


Big  Tom  209 

and  thus  able  to  do  much  better  work.  We 
had,  in  addition  to  the  morning  and  evening 
prayers,  two  delightful  religious  services,  in 
both  the  Indian  and  English  languages.  The 
intervals  between  were  spent  in  reading  the 
Book  and  some  sweet  song  services. 

As  the  years  rolled  on,  with  their  varied 
duties,  we  ever  found  in  Big  Tom,  a  most 
valued  and  trusted  assistant.  His  noble  con- 
sistent life,  made  him  a  benediction  to  both 
whites  and  Indians.  If  disputes  arose,  and 
arbitration  was  necessary,  it  was  Big  Tom  who 
was  first  thought  of  as  an  arbitrator ;  and  we 
cannot  recall  an  instance  where  his  decision 
was  rejected. 

He  was  a  great  hunter  in  his  day,  and  many 
were  the  stories  afloat  of  his  skill  and  prowess. 
For  years  he  held  the  record  of  being  the  best 
moose  hunter  in  the  village.  The  moose,  al- 
though the  largest  of  the  deer  tribe,  and  of  an 
ungainly  appearance,  can  move  through  the 
forest  with  great  rapidity.  It  never  gallops 
like  other  deer,  but  swings  along  on  a  pacing 
trot,  at  a  rate,  and  with  an  endurance  that 
would  soon  leave  the  swiftest  horse  behind. 
Its  head  is  freighted  with  great  broad  horns  of 
enormous  dimensions  and  weight,  and  yet 
among  the  dense  trees,  it  can,  when  alarmed, 
move  so  swiftly,  that  the  fleetest  hunter  is  soon 
left  far  in  the  rear.  Its  sight  is  not  equal  to 
14 


2io  On  the  Indian  Trail 

that  of  .some  other  of  the  deer  species ;  but 
nature  has  given  it  the  most  acute  powers  of 
hearing  and  of  scent.  From  Big  Tom  and 
others  we  have  heard  it  stated,  that  even  when  a 
fierce  November  storm  was  raging  in  the  woods, 
with  trees  swaying  to  and  fro,  and  branches 
crashing  against  each  other  and  breaking  in  the 
gale,  if  the  incautious  hunter,  hundreds  of 
yards  away,  happened  to  step  on  a  small  dry 
twig  that  snapped  under  his  foot,  the  moose  at 
once  detected  the  sound,  and  was  off  like  an 
arrow,  never  stopping  for  many  miles. 

Of  Big  Tom's  skill  as  a  hunter,  we  have 
nothing  more  to  record  at  present ;  but  here 
we  wish  to  put  on  record  an  instance  of  his 
self-abnegation,  which  beautifully  reveals  the 
disinterested  character  of  the  man,  and  shows 
what  was  the  heart's  ambition. 

For  many  generations  these  American  In- 
dians have  been  divided  into  tribes.  Many  and 
diverse  are  their  languages;  but  numbers  of 
their  customs  and  methods  of  government  are 
similar.  In  all  the  tribes  chiefs  governed  who 
had  more  or  less  authority.  In  some,  the  honour 
was  hereditary ;  in  others,  not  so ;  although  in 
the  latter  the  son  of  the  chief,  if  he  were  at  all 
suitable,  had  the  best  chance  of  being  appointed 
in  his  father's  place.  When  the  Canadian 
government  made  treaties  with  the  Indians  of 
the  great  northwest,  it  ever  acknowledged  the 


Big  Tom  211 

authority  of  the  chiefs ;  and  through  them,  to- 
day, still  transacts  all  business  with^he  tribes. 
For  some  time  before  the  treaty  was  made 
with  the  northern  Crees,  the  office  of  chieftain- 
ship had  fallen  into  abeyance.  When  word  ar- 
rived that  the  government  was  about  to  enter 
into  treaty  with  them,  and  wished  to  know  who 
was  their  chief,  there  was  a  good  deal  of  excite- 
ment. The  Dominion  government  has  been 
very  honourable  in  its  treatment  of  the  Indians, 
and  in  the  respect  which  it  has  paid  to  the 
chiefs  of  this  naturally  sensitive  people,  whose 
allowances  have  been  silver  medals,  fine  clothes, 
and  extra  gratuities,  both  in  money  and  sup- 
plies. Of  course  there  was  excitement  among 
the  Crees  at  the  prospect  of  great  political 
changes.  Councils  were  frequent,  and  many 
pipes  were  smoked  in  wigwams  and  beside 
camp-fires  over  the  matter.  Various  names 
were  discussed,  and  sons  and  grandsons  were 
brought  forward,  only  to  be  rejected  one  after 
another.  Big  Tom  took  but  little  interest  in 
these  proceedings,  and  attended  but  few  coun- 
cils. One  day  to  his  surprise,  while  at  work  in 
his  garden,  he  was  waited  upon  by  a  deputation 
of  Indians  and  informed  that  he  was  urgently 
needed  at  the  council  house.  Here  in  full 
council  he  was  told  that  he  was  the  choice  of 
the  people,  and  that  they  wanted  him  to  be 
their  chief — to  wear  the  silver  medal  with  the 


212  On  the  Indian  Trail 

face  of  the  Great  Mother  (the  Queen)  upon  it, 
and  to  be  their  voice  to  speak  to  the  Queen's 
representative,  (the  Governor),  on  all  matters 
that  referred  to  the  happiness  and  welfare  of 
the  tribe. 

I  had  been  informed  of  the  decision  of  the 
people,  and  had  accepted  an  invitation  to  be 
present  at  the  council  when  Big  Tom  was  to  be 
appointed.  In  other  days,  I  had  attended  con- 
ventions among  my  white  friends,  and  there 
had  observed  the  readiness  with  which  prof- 
fered honours,  political  and  ecclesiastical,  were 
accepted.  Here,  however,  was  a  surprise  in 
store  for  us ;  an  exception  to  the  general  rule, 
so  marvelous  that  it  is  worth  pondering. 

When  the  office  of  chief  was  offered  to  him, 
the  big  man,  who  looked  every  inch  a  chief,  in- 
stead of  accepting  the  position  at  once,  became 
deeply  affected,  and  seemed  utterly  unable  to 
make  any  suitable  reply.  He  tried,  we  thought, 
to  express  his  thanks  for  the  great  honour;  but 
all  he  really  did  was  in  broken  words  to  ask  for 
an  adjournment  of  the  council  until  the  next 
day.  While  disappointed  at  the  adjournment, 
I  was  pleased  at  the  thought  that  Big  Tom, 
taken  unawares,  had  felt  that  he  could  not  give 
the  oration  which  the  occasion  demanded,  and 
so  had  asked  for  time  to  get  his  thoughts  in 
order,  when  he  would  give  us  a  speech  worthy 
of  the  great  event;  for  Big  Tom  was  a  speaker 


Big  Tom  213 

of  no  mean  order,  although  rather  slow  until 
he  warmed  up  to  his  subject. 

On  the  reassembling  of  the  council,  we  were 
all  there,  eager  to  hear  an  Indian  oration  under 
the  best  auspices.  It  was  a  speech,  calm,  elo- 
quent, delightful ;  but  how  different  from  what 
had  been  expected.  What  a  chance  was  here 
for  an  ambitious,  aspiring  man  !  How  he  could 
have  talked  about  himself;  what  he  had  done, 
and  what  he  was  going  to  do !  But  in  Big  Tom's 
address  there  was  nothing  of  the  kind.  Quietly 
and  modestly  he  talked,  warming  up  as  he  pro- 
ceeded. The  only  brief  report  I  have  of  his 
address  is  the  following,  and  it  fails  to  do  jus- 
tice to  the  occasion  or  to  the  man : 

"  Long  ago  when  the  missionaries  came  and 
preached  to  us,  for  a  time  we  refused  to  listen 
to  them,  and  would  not  become  Christians. 
Then,  after  a  while,  many  of  us  who  had  been 
in  darkness,  began  to  feel  in  our  hearts,  that 
what  they  told  us  was  for  our  good ;  and  so  we 
accepted  these  things,  and  they  have  done  us 
good.  When  I  got  the  assurance  in  my  heart 
that  I  was  a  child  of  God,  and  had  a  soul  that 
should  live  forever,  I  found,  that  in  working 
out  this  salvation,  I  had  something  great  to  live 
for.  To  do  this  was  the  great  object  of  my  life. 
By  and  by  I  married,  and  then,  as  my  family 
increased  and  began  to  grow  up  around  me,  I 
found  I  had  another  object  for  which  to  live — 


214  On  the  Indian  Trail 

to  help  its  members  along  in  the  way  to  heaven, 
as  well  as  to  work  for  their  comfort  here. 

"  Then,  after  a  while,  the  missionary  gave  me 
the  charge  of  a  class.  We  were  to  meet,  and  talk 
together  about  our  souls,  and  God's  love  for  us, 
and  to  do  all  we  could  to  help  each  other  to  the 
better  land.  To  do  my  duty  as  the  leader  was 
a  great  and  an  important  work.  While  attend- 
ing to  these  duties,  I  found  I  had  another  ob- 
ject for  which  to  live.  These  three  things, — 
my  own  soul's  salvation  ;  the  salvation  of  my 
family ;  to  do  all  I  can  to  help  and  encourage 
the  members  of  my  class  to  be  true  and  faithful 
to  Him, — are  uppermost  in  my  heart. 

"  I  am  thankful  for  your  confidence  in  me,  in 
asking  me  to  be  your  chief.  I  know  it  is  a 
great  honour ;  but  I  see  it  will  have  many  re- 
sponsibilities, and,  that  whoever  has  the  posi- 
tion, will  have  to  attend  to  many  other  things 
than  those  which  I  have  set  my  mind  upon. 
So  you  must  appoint  some  one  else ;  for,  with 
those  three  things  I  cannot  let  anything  else 
interfere.  I  thank  you,  my  brothers,  and  love 
you  all." 

Noble,  disinterested  Big  Tom !  As  I  listened 
to  him  while  he  thus  talked,  I  was  prouder  of 
him  than  ever ;  and  I  thanked  God  for  the  con- 
version of  such  men  from  paganism  to  Chris- 
tianity, and  for  the  development  in  their  hearts 
and  lives  of  such  noble  qualities  and  virtues. 


Selections  from 

Fleming  H.  Revell  Company's 
Missionary  Lists 


New  York:  na  Fifth  Avenue 
Chicago :  63  Washington  Street 
Turonto:  154  Yong«  Street 


{MISSIONS,   AFRICA. 


The  Personal  Life  of  David  Livingstone. 

Chiefly  from  his  unpublished  journals  and  correspondence 
in  the  possession  of  his  family.     By  W.  GARDEN  BLAIKIE, 
D.D.,  LL.D.     With  Portrait  and  Map.     New,  cheap  edi- 
tion.    508  pages,  8vo,  cloth,  $1.50. 
"There  is  throughout  the  narrative  that  glow  of  interest  which 

is  realized  while  events  are  comparatively  recent,  with  that  also 

which  is  still  fresh  and  tender."—  The  Standard. 

David  Livingstone. 

His  Labors  and  His  Legacy.  By  A.  MONTEFIORE,  F.R.G.S. 
Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  160  pages, 
i-smo,  cloth,  750. 

David  Livingstone. 

By  Mrs.  J.  H.  WORCESTER,  Jr.,  Missionary  Annals  Series. 
i2mo,  paper,  net,  i5c. ;  flexible  cloth,  net,  3oc. 

Reality  vs.  Romance    in    South    Central 
Africa. 

Being  an  Account  of  a  Journey  across  the  African  Conti- 
nent, from  Benguella  on  the  West  Coast  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Zambesi.  By  JAMES  JOHNSTON,  M.D.  With  51  full- 
page  photogravure  reproductions  of  photographs  by  the 
author,  and  a  map.  Royal  8vo,  cloth,  boxed,  $4.00. 

The  Story  or  Uganda 

And  of  the  Victoria  Nyanza  Mission.  By  S.  G.  STOCK. 
Illustrated.  i2mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

"To  be  commended  as  a  good,  brief,  general  survey  of  the 
Protestant  missionary  work  in  Uganda."—  The  Literary  World. 

Robert  Moffat, 

The  Missionary  Hero  of  Kuruman.  By  DAVID  J.  DEANE. 
Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  2$th  thousand. 
I2mo,  cloth,  750. 

Robert  Moffat. 

By  M.  L.  WILDER.  Missionary  Annals  Series.  I2mo, 
paper,  net,  I5c. ;  flexible  cloth,  net,  3oc. 

The  Congo  for  Christ. 

The  Story  of  the  Congo  Mission.  By  Rev.  JOHN  B.  MYERS. 
Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  Tenth  thousand. 
I2mo,  cloth,  75C. 

On  the  Congo. 

Edited  from  Notes  and  Conversations  of  Missionaries,  by 
Mrs.  H.  GRATTAN  GUINNESS.  i2mo,  paper,  500. 


{MISSIONS,  AFRICA. 


Samuel  Crowther,  the  Slave  Boy 

Who  became  Bishop  of  the  Niger.     By  JESSE  PAGE.     Mis- 
sionary Biography  Series.     Illustrated.    Eighteenth  thous- 
and,    lamo,  cloth,  7">c. 
"  We  cannot  conceive  of  anything  better  calculated  to  inspire 

in  the  hearts  of  young  people  an  enthusiasm  for  the  cause." — The 

Christian. 

Thomas  Birch  Freeman. 

Missionary  Pioneer  to  Ashanti,  Dahomey  and  Egba.  By 
JOHN  MILUM,  F.R.G.S.  Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illus- 
trated, lamo,  cloth,  750. 

"Well  written  and  well  worth  reading."—  The  Faithful  Wit- 
ness. 

Seven  Years  in  Sierra  Leone. 

The  Story  of  the  Missionary  Work  of  Wm.  A.  B.  Johnson. 
By  Rev.  ARTHUR  T.  PIERSON,  D.D.  i6mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

Johnson  was  a  missionary  of  the  Church  Missionary  Society  in 
Regent's  Town,  Sierra  Leone,  Africa,  from  1816  to  1823. 

Among  the  Matabele. 

By  Rev.  D.  CARNEGIE,  for  ten  years  resident  at  Hope  Foun- 
tain, twelve  miles  from  Bulawayo.  With  portraits,  maps 
and  other  illustrations.  Second  edition.  I2mo,  cloth,  6oc. 

Peril  and  Adventure  in  Central  Africa. 

Illustrated  Letter  to  the  Youngsters  at  Home.  By  BISHOP 
HAMMINGTON.  Illustrated.  i2mo,  cloth,  5oc. 

Madagascar  of  To-Day. 

A  Sketch  of  the  Island.  With  Chapters  on  its  History  ano 
Prospects.  By  Rev.  W.  E.  COUSINS,  Missionary  of  the 
London  Missionary  Society  since  1862.  Map  and  Illus- 
trations. i2mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

Madagascar. 

Its  Missionaries  and  Martyrs.  By  Rev.  W.  J.  TOWNSEND, 
D.D.  Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  Tenth 
thousand,  tamo,  cloth,  75C. 

Madagascar. 

By  BELLE  MCPHERSON  CAMPBELL.  Missionary  Annals  Series. 
i2mo,  paper,  net,  i5c.;  flexible  cloth,  net,  3oc. 

Madagascar. 

Country,  People,  Missions.  By  Rev.  JAMES  SIBREE. 
F.R.G.S.  Outline  Missionary  Series.  i6mo,  paper,  aoc 


MISSIONS,  CHINA. 


Chinese  Characteristics. 

By  Rev.  ARTHUR  H.  SMITH,  D.D.,  for  25  years  a  Missionary 
in  China.  With  16  full-page  original  Illustrations,  and 
index.  Sixth  thousand.  Topular  edition.  8vo}  cloth, 

$1.25. 
"  The  best  book  on  the  Chinese  people.  — The  Examiner. 

A  Cycle  of  Cathay; 

Or,  China,  South  and  North.  With  personal  reminiscen- 
ces. By  W.  A.  P.  MARTIN,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  President 
Emeritus  of  the  Imperial  Tungwen  College,  Peking. 
With  70  Illustrations  from  photographs  and  native  draw- 
ings, a  Map  and  an  index.  Second  edition.  8vo,  cloth 
decorated,  $2.00. 
"  No  student  of  Eastern  affairs  can  afford  to  neglect  this  work, 

which  will  take  its  place  with  Dr.  William's  '  Middle  Kingdom,'  as 

an  authoritative  work  on  China." —  The  Outlook. 

Glances  at  China. 

By  Rev.  GILBERT  REID,  M.A.,  Founder  of  the  Mission  to 
the  Higher  Classes.  Illustrated.  12  mo,  cloth,  8oc. 

Pictures  of  Southern  China. 

By  Rev.  JAMES  MAcGowAN.  With  80  Illustrations.  8vo, 
cloth,  $4.20. 

A  Winter  in  North  China. 

By  Rev.  T.  M.  MORRIS.  With  an  Introduction  by  Rev. 
RICHARD  GLOVER,  D.D.,  and  a  Map.  i2mo,  cloth,  $1.50. 

John  Livingston  Nevius, 

For  Forty  Years  a  Missionary  in  Shantung.  By  his  wife, 
HELEN  S.  C.  NEVIUS.  With  an  Introduction  by  the  Rev. 
W.  A.  P.  MARTIN,  D.D.  Illustrated.  8vo,  cloth,  $2.00. 

The  Sister  Martyrs  of  Ku  Cheng. 

Letters  and  a  Memoir  of  ELEANOR  and  ELIZABETH  SAUNDERS, 
Massacred  August  ist,  1895.  Illustrated.  I2mo,  cloth, 
$1.50. 

China. 

By  Rev.  J.  T.  GRACEY,  D.D.  Seventh  edition,  revised. 
i6mo,  paper,  150. 

Protestant  Missions  in  China. 

By  D.  WILLARD  LYON,  a  Secretary  of  the  Student  Volun- 
teer Movement.  i6mo,  paper,  I5c. 


MISSIONS,  CHINA  AND  FORMOSA. 


James  Gilmour,  of  Mongolia. 

His  Diaries,  Letters  and  Reports.  Edited  and  arranged 
by  RICHARD  LOVETT,  M.A.  With  three  photogravure 
Portraits  and  Illustrations.  8vo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.75. 

"  It  is  a  vivid  picture  of  twenty  years  of  devoted  and  heroic 
service  in  a  field  as  hard  as  often  falls  to  the  lot  of  a  worker  in  for- 
eign lands." — The  Congregationalist 

Among  the  Mongols. 

By  Rev.  JAMES  GILMOUR.    Illustrated.    12010,  cloth,  $1.25. 

James  Gilmour  and  His  Boys. 

Being  Letters  to  his  Sons  in  England.  With  facsimiles  of 
Letters,  a  Map  and  other  Illustrations.  12010,  cloth, 

$1.2?. 

Griffith  John, 

Founder  of  the  Hankow  Mission,  Central  China.  By 
WILLIAM  ROBSON.  Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illus- 
trated. I2mo,  cloth,  75c. 

John  Kenneth  Mackenzie, 

Medical  Missionary  to  China.  With  the  Story  of  the  first 
Chinese  Hospital.  By  Mrs.  MARY  I.  BRYSON.  With  por- 
trait, ismo,  cloth,  $1.50. 

The  Story  of  the  China  Inland  Mission. 

By  M.  GERALDINE  GUINNESS.  Introduction  by  J.  HUDSON 
TAYLOR,  F.R.G.S.  Illustrated,  2  volumes,  8vo,  cloth, 
each,  $1.50. 

From  Far  Formosa: 

The  Island,  its  People  and  Missions.  By  Rev.  G.  L. 
MACKAY,  D.D.,  23  years  a  missionary  on  the  island.  Well 
indexed.  With  many  Illustrations  from  photographs  by 
the  author,  and  several  Maps.  Fifth  thousand.  Popular 
edition.  8vo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

China  and  Formosa. 

The  Story  of  the  Mission  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  of 
England.  By  Rev.  JAMES  JOHNSON,  editor  of  "  Missionary 
Conference  Report,  1888."  With  4  Maps  and  many 
illustrations,  prepared  for  this  work.  8vo,  cloth,  $1.75. 


{MISSIONS,  INDIA. 
In  the  Tiger  Jungle. 

And  Other  Stories  of  Missionary  Work  among  the  Telugus. 

By  Rev.  JACOB  CHAMBERLAIN,  M.D.,  D.D.,  for  37  years  a 

Missionary  in  India.     Illustrated.     I2mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  If  this  is  the  kind  of  missionary  who  mans  the  foreign  stations, 
they  will  never  fail  for  lack  of  enterprise.  .  .  .  The  book  is  withal 
a  vivid  and  serious  portrayal  of  the  mission  work,  and  as  such 
leaves  a  deep  impression  on  the  reader." — The  Independent. 

The  Child  of  the  Ganges. 

A  Tale  of  the  Judson  Mission.  By  Prof.  R.  N.  BARRETT, 
D.D.  Illustrated.  I2mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

Adoniram  Judson. 

By  JULIA  H.  JOHNSTON.  Missionary  Annals  Series.  i2mo, 
paper,  net,  150.;  flexible  cloth,  net,  300. 

Once  Hindu,  now  Christian. 

The  Early  Life  of  Baba  Padmanji.  An  Autobiography, 
translated.  Edited  by  J.  MURRAY  MITCHELL,  M.  A.  i6mo, 
cloth,  75c. 

William  Carey. 

The  Shoemaker  who  became  "the  Father  and  Founder  of 
Foreign  Missions."  By  Rev.  JOHN  B.  MYERS.  Missionary 
Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  Twenty-second  thousand. 
i2mo,  cloth,  75c. 

William  Carey. 

By  MARY  E.  FARWELL.  Missionary  Annals  Series.  1 2mo, 
paper,  net,  I5C. ;  flexible  cloth,  net,  3OC. 

Alexander  Duff. 

By  ELIZABETH  B.  VERMILYE.  Missionary  Annals  Series. 
12010,  paper,  net,  i5c. ;  flexible  cloth,  net,  300. 

Reginald  Heber, 

Bishop  of  Calcutta,  Scholar  and  Evangelist.  By  ARTHUR 
MONTEFIORE.  Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illustrated. 
I2mo,  cloth,  75C. 

Heavenly  Pearls  Set  in  a  Life. 

A  Record  of  Experiences  and  Labors  in  America,  India, 
and  Australia.  By  Mrs.  LUCY  D,  OSBORN,  Illustrated. 
1 2  wo,  cloth,  $1.50. 


(MISSIONS,  PERSIA  AND  INDIA. 


Persian  Life  and  Customs. 

With  Incidents  of  Residence  and  Travel  in  the  Land  of  the 
Lion  and  the  Sun.  By  Rev.  S.  G.  WILSON,  M.A.,  for  15 
years  a  missionary  in  Persia.  With  Map,  and  other  Illus- 
trations, and  Index.  Second  edition,  reduced  in  price. 
8vo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

Justin  Perkins, 

Pioneer  Missionary  to  Persia.  By  his  son,  Rev.  H.  M. 
PERKINS.  Missionary  Annals  Series.  i2mo,  paper,  net, 
1 50. ;  flexible  cloth,  net,  300. 

Women  and  the  Gospel  in  Persia. 

By  Rev.  THOMAS  LAURIE,  D.D.  Missionary  Annals  Series, 
tamo,  paper,  net,  \^c. ;  flexible  cloth,  net,  3oc. 

Henry  Martyn,  Saint  and  Scholar. 

First  Modern  Missionary  to  the  Mohammedans.  1781-1812. 
By  GEORGE  SMITH,  author  of  "Life  of  William  Carey," 
"The  Conversion  of  India,"  etc.  With  Portrait,  Map, 
and  Illustrations.  Large  8vo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $3.00. 

"This  excellent  biography,  so  accurately  written,  so  full  of 
interest  and  contagious  enthusiasm,  so  well  arranged,  illustrated, 
and  indexed,  is  worthy  of  the  subject." — The  Critic. 

Henry  Martyn. 

His  Life  and  Labors:  Cambridge — India — Persia.  By  JESSE 
PAGE.  Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  Eleventh 
thousand.  i2mo,  cloth,  75C. 

Henry  Martyn. 

Missionary  to  India  and  Persia.  1781-1812.  Abridged 
from  the  Memoir  by  Mrs.  SARAH  J.  RHEA.  Missionary 
Annals  Series.  i2mo,  paper,  net,  \^c. ;  flexible  cloth, 
net,  3oc. 

The  Conversion  of  India. 

From  Pantasnus  to  the  Present  Time,  A.  D.  193-1893.  By 
GEORGE  SMITH,  C.I.E.,  author  of  "  Henry  Martyn."  Illus- 
trated. i2mo,  cloth,  $1.50. 

The  Cross  in  the  Land  of  the  Trident. 

By  Rev.  HARLAN  P.  BEACH,  Educational  Secretary  of  the 
Student  Volunteer  Movement.  $th  thousand.  I2mo, 
paper,  net,  25C. ;  cloth,  500. 


MISSIONS,  JAPAN. 
Rambles  in  Japan, 

The  Land  of  the   Rising  Sun.     By  Rev.  Canon  H.  B. 

TRISTRAM,  D.D.,  F.R.S.     With  forty-six  illustrations  by 

EDWARD  WHYMPER,  a  Map,  and  an  index.     8vo,  cloth, 

$2.00. 

"A  delightful  book  by  a  competent  author,  who,  as  a  natural- 
ist, writes  well  of  the  country,  while  as  a  Christian  and  a  humanita- 
rian he  writes  with  sympathy  of  the  new  institutions  of  new  Japan." 

—  The  Independent. 

The  Gist  of  Japan : 

The  Islands,  their  People,  and  Missions.  By  Rev.  R.  B. 
PEERY,  A.M.,  Ph.D.,  of  the  Lutheran  Mission,  Saga.  Il- 
lustrated, lamo,  cloth  decorated,  $1.25. 

This  book  does  not  pretend  to  be  an  exhaustive  treatise  of  an 
exhaustless  topic;  it  does  pretend  to  cover  the  subject;  and 
whosoever  is  eager  to  know  the  "  gist "  of  those  matters  Japanese 
in  which  Westerners  are  most  interested— the  land,  the  people, 
the  coming  of  Christianity,  the  difficulties  and  prospects  of  her 
missions,  the  condition  of  the  native  Church— will  find  it  set  down 
in  Dr.  Peery's  book  in  a  very  interesting,  reliable,  instructive, 
and  condensed  form. 

The  Ainu  of  Japan. 

The  Religion,  Superstitions,  and  General  History  of  the 
Hairy  Aborigines  of  Japan.  By  Rev.  JOHN  BATCHELOR. 
With  80  Illustrations.  !2mo,  cloth,  $1.50. 

"  Mr.  Batchelor's  book,  besides  its  eighty  trustworthy  illustra- 
tions, its  careful  editing,  and  its  excellent  index,  is  replete  with 
information  of  all  sorts  about  the  Ainu  men,  women,  and  children. 
Almost  every  phase  of  their  physical  and  metaphysical  life  has  been 
studied,  and  carefully  noted." — The  Nation. 

The  Diary  of  a  Japanese  Convert. 

By  KANZO  UCHIMURA.     12010,  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  This  book  is  far  more  than  the  name  indicates.  It  is  the  only 
book  of  its  kind  published  in  the  English  language,  if  not  in  any 
language.  It  is  something  new  under  the  sun,  and  is  as  original  as 
it  is  new.  It  has  the  earmarks  of  a  strong  and  striking  individual- 
ity, is  clear  in  diction,  forceful  in  style,  and  fearless  in  criticism." — 
The  Interior. 

A  Maker  of  the  New  Japan. 

Joseph  Hardy  Neesima,  the  Founder  of  Doshisha  University. 
By  Rev.  J.  D.  DAVIS,  D.D.,  Professor  in  Doshisha.  Il- 
lustrated. Second  edition.  I2mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

"The  life  is  admirably  and  spiritedly  written,  and  its  hero 
stands  forth  as  one  of  the  most  romantic  and  inspiring  figures  of 
modern  times,  a  benefactor  to  his  own  country  and  an  object  of 
tender  regard  on  our  part ;  for  it  was  to  the  United  States  that 
Mr.  Neesima  turned  for  light  and  help  in  his  educational  plans." 

—  The  Examiner. 


MISSIONS,  PACIFIC  ISLANDS. 


John  G.  Paton, 

Missionary  to  the  New  Hebrides.  An  Autobiography, 
edited  by  his  brother.  With  an  Introductory  Note  by  Rev. 
A.  T.  Pierson  D.D.  Illustrated.  Tenth  thousand,  svols. , 
I2mo,  cloth/gilt  top,  boxed,  net,  $2.00  ;  cheaper  edition, 
i  vol.,  I2mo,  cloth,  $1.50. 

"  We  commend  to  all  who  would  advance  the  cause  of  Foreign 
Missions  this  remarkable  autobiography.  It  stands  with  such  books 
as  those  Dr.  Livingstone  gave  the  world,  and  shows  to  men  that 
the  heroes  of  the  cross  are  not  merely  to  be  sought  in  past  ages." 
—  The  Christian  Intelligencer. 

Bishop  Patterson, 

The  Martyr  of  Melanesia.  By  JESSIE  PAGE.  Missionary 
Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  Thirteenth  thousand. 
i2mo,  cloth,  75c. 

James  Calvert; 

Or,  From  Dark  to  Dawn  in  Fiji.  By  R.  VERNON.  Mis- 
sionary Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  Tenth  thousand. 
i2tno,  cloth,  75c. 

From  Darkness  to  Light  in  Polynesia. 

With  Illustrative  Clan  Songs.  By  REV.  WILLIAM  WYATT 
GILL,  LL.D.  Illustrated.  I2mo,  cloth,  $2.40. 

John  Williams, 

The  Martyr  Missionary  of  Polynesia.  By  REV.  JAMES  J. 
ELLIS.  Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  Thir- 
teenth thousand.  i2mo,  cloth,  75c. 

Among  the  Maoris ; 

Or,  Daybreak  in  New  Zealand.  A  Record  of  the  Labors 
of  Marsden,  Selwyn,  and  others.  By  JESSIE  PAGE.  Mis- 
sionary Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  i2mo,  cloth,  750. 

Pioneering  in  New  Guinea, 

1877-1894.     By  JAMES  CHALMERS.     With  a  Map  and  43 
Illustrations  from   Original  Sketches  and    Photographs. 
8vo,    cloth,  $1.50. 
"  It  reveals  a  splendid  character,  and  records  a  noble  apostolic 

work.    It  is  a  notable  addition  to  our  missionary  literature  of  the 

high  class." — The  Standard. 

James  Chalmers, 

Missionary  and  Explorer  of  Rarotonga  and  New  Guinea. 
By  WILLIAM  ROBSON.  Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illus- 
trated. Fourteenth  thousand.  I2mo,  cloth,  750. 


{MISSIONS,  AMERICA. 


On  the  Indian  Trail, 

And  Other  Stories  of  Missionary  Work  among  the  Cree 
and  Saulteaux  Indians.  By  EGERTON  R.  YOUNG.  Illus- 
trated by  J.  E.  LAUGHLIN.  i2mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

Mr.  Young  is  well  known  to  readers  of  all  ages  as  the  author 
of  " By  Canoe  and  Dog  Train,"  "Three  Boys  in  the  Wild  North 
Land,"  and  other  very  popular  books  describing  life  and  adventure 
in  the  great  Northwest.  The  stories  in  this  new  book  tell  of  some 
very  exciting  incidents  in  his  career,  and  describe  phases  of  life 
among  the  American  Indians  which  are  fast  becoming  things  of 
the  past. 

Forty-two  Years  Among  the  Indians  and 
Eskimos. 

Pictures  from  the  Life  of  the  Rt.  Rev.  John  Horden,  first 
Bishop  of  Moosonee.  By  BEATRICE  BATTY,  illustrated. 
i2mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

Vikings  of  To-Day; 

Or,  Life  and  Medical  Work  among  the  Fishermen  of 
Labrador.  By  WILFRED  T.  GRENFEL,  M.D.,  of  the  Deep 
Sea  Mission.  Illustrated  from  Original  Photographs. 
Second  edition.  I2mo.  cloth,  $1.25. 

"  The  author  has  been  in  charge  of  the  work  since  its  inception, 
and  writes,  accordingly,  with  special  authority  and  wealth  of  detail, 
both  as  to  the  methods  of  work  and  as  to  the  people— the  fearless, 
patient  Vikings — to  whom  he  has  dedicated  his  life."-~7/&e  Ex- 
aminer. 

Amid  Greenland  Snows; 

Or,  The  Early  History  of  Arctic  Missions.  By  JESSE  PAGE. 
Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  Tenth  tbous- 
and.  i2mo,  cloth,  750. 

Kin-da-Shon's  Wife. 

An  Alaskan  Story.     By  Mrs.  EUGENE  S.  WILLARD.     Illus- 
trated.    Third  edition.     8vo,  cloth,  $1.50. 
"  From  beginning  to  end  the  book  holds  the  attention.    Mrs. 

Willard  has  shown  herself  peculiarly  well  qualified  to  write  such 

a  book." — Public  Opinion. 

David  Brainerd, 

The  Apostle  to  the  North  American  Indians.  By  JESSE 
PAGE.  Missionary  Biography  Series.  Illustrated.  Twelfth 
thousand.  i2mo,  cloth,  75c. 

South  America,  the  Neglected  Continent. 

By  LUCY  E.  GUINNESS  and  E.  C.  MILLARD.  With  a  Map 
in  colors  and  many  other  Illustrations.  Small  4to,  paper, 
5oc.j  doth,  750. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  AT  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


Form  t,-9 
10m -3, '39(7732) 


of 


ft 


Los  Angeles 


PLEASE  DO   NOT    REMOVE 
THIS   BOOK 


03 
CO 

•< 

a> 
* 

o 


University  Research  Library 


